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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

Note

It’s CMA-

Sorry for my relative absence, I was finishing finals last week lol. Anyway I’m back and ready to read the new chapter!

As a younger sibling, I love seeing Colin roast the shit out of benedict lmao

Ooh perceptive Josie! I was wondering when she’d catch on!

I love how Anthony so clearly thinks that family is #1 in his life and can’t comprehend anyone else thinking differently. I wonder if Ben will lean on him and if he’ll learn about clover’s family, and how he would react. I think it would explain a lot about her to him.

Also the only reason I think Anthony in particular would be involved is because I feel like clover’s parents will try to extort her and Ben in some way, probably financially, in which case they’d probably need to disclose it to Anthony and/or bring him in to consult on how to legally get rid of them.

Also going back to the Anthony and family thing: he so clearly has a set definition of what family means and what you would do for them, and how you would treat them even. It’s very black and white- either your family or you’re not, in which case he’s not going to really care about you. The one exception I can think of to that rule would be Charlie.

I mean, thinking back to the duel with Simon, he so clearly is willing to turn on him in a moments notice as soon as he thought that Simon was hurting his family.

It’s a fascinating dynamic- how far would he go for his family, and how much he would take for them. It’s like the very definition of he would burn down the whole world just to see them safe.

And seeing this with clover is especially interesting because she started very much as an outsider and he considered her basically a hostile threat to be controlled, and then almost immediately after she became family, he’s suddenly expecting everything to be good between them.

Idk idk just a lot of thoughts (I didn’t even read clover’s response, just the first line of Anthony saying “better terms? We’re family.” Lol so idk if what continues will completely invalidate everything I just wrote or not lolololol)

I love how clover kind of bulldozes over Anthony and doesn’t really ever let him speak. She does this a lot but so does he, so it’s interesting to see him be on the receiving end for once. They’re so similar it’s crazy.

(Their dynamic also a really interesting case study of how one instance of severe emotional trauma has significantly different effects than severe, prolonged physical, verbal, and emotional trauma, but also how trauma fucks you up in an overarching way that is similar/apparent to anyone paying attention)

Lmfao clover just asserting to Anthony that his most strongly kept secret is so obvious to her. Love to see it (also yes anthony get off your dumb ass)

THE DUEL IS THE DUEL IN THIS CHAPTER?!!???!!!???!!?? IS EVERYONE GOING TO GET SUPER INSPIRED TO GET OFF THEIR ASSES?!!??!!??!!??!!????

HES NOT EVEN FUCKING GOING TO TELL HER HES GOING TO BE AT A DUEL?!!??!!??!!?!!!

damn I know he’s protecting her because she’ll probably have a panic attack when she realizes, but she’s going to be so fucking pissed and probably still have a panic attack anyway when she finds out. Ben what happened to always being honest with her 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 they were finally having such a nice, emotionally vulnerable, sober moment together too!!!!!!!!

Also at least we know that Anthony is going to get off his ass for Charlie finally. Thanks to clover for inspiring him and everything. Damn, if clover isn’t the maid of honor/best woman at the wedding, then Anthony will have really fucked up. He owes her BIG time.

Damn clover is going to have a crisis about nearly getting what she wanted. Holy fuck, my god, Ben you’re such a dumbass

The duel ended and Ben didn’t even come home!!! Oh my god how could Ben let Lottie be the one to tell her!!!!!!! Oh my fucking god Ben you dumbass!!!

(I know it’s fair because he’s been doing everything perfectly so far and he was bound to mess up at some point, plus I know he’s doing it with the best intentions but still!!!!!!! Ben you can’t do this to her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Wait who was Simon’s second?

Damn for Lottie’s sake, I almost hope she leaves because clover is going to be a fucking Hurricane and I’m worried who she’ll hurt along the way.

Also anthony was so close to having a decent relationship with clover and he just totally wrecked it for the foreseeable future.

Mostly she’s going to be mad at Ben, obviously because they’re the closest, but she’s going to be really pissed at everyone involved. Including Colin because he knew and didn’t tell her; I could see at least some damage being done to their relationship, which is sad because they had such a cute friendship.

Will lady bridgerton know about the duel? Will Eloise? I’d like clover to have at least one person to talk to, though I suppose she could always talk to Josie and Bess and her aunt and everyone.

I wonder if clover will stay in her house with Ben, or if she’ll be angry enough to stay somewhere else for a while. This is already going to wreck Ben, if she stays somewhere else it might break him.

Going back to the Anthony/family thing, this is such an interesting view of how all of the bridgertons are that way for one another and can’t imagine seeing things any differently. It wasn’t just Anthony that took that risk, it was his brothers as well, and daphne by riding out there in the middle of it.

It’s also a really interesting look at how Anthony didn’t even question if Ben and Colin would support him; he assumed they would, he counted on it. It’s a really interesting look at when being dependable goes too far.

I’m not entirely sure if they would count as being an enmeshed family, but I kind of feel like they would be. They’ve got very few boundaries with one another and rely on each other for everything, not even considering personal cost when it comes to the well being of their family. It’s great and amazing until it goes too far; there’s a reason why personal boundaries exist and are important, even within a well meaning tightly knit community like theirs.

Are we going to get any peeks at Ben’s POV for the last portion of the chapter, and/or if he left a letter or anything for her?

I also wonder how much this will damage her relationship with not just the bridgerton boys, but also daphne and Simon as well. I definitely feel like she’s going to resent them for what happened, even though that in doing so she would be a total hypocrite considering what happened between her and Ben.

If Ben hadn’t been so noble, quick on his feet, and willing to save her, they might’ve ended up in a not dissimilar situation to daphne and Simon, though I doubt clover would be willing to think about that.

It’s also so interesting how even though I talked about Anthony’s relationship with his family as a contrast to clover, they’re actually really similar. Anthony just uses the biological definition of family while clover has her chosen family.

It’s really interesting to consider what happens when two people who are willing to burn the whole world down to protect their family end up clashing. (Enemies to lovers clover and Anthony when? Lmaooo)

Clover’s definition of family is so flexible; she can add people and cut them off in an instant, while Anthony’s definition is very fixed: if you’re family, you’re family for life, end of sentence.

In order to protect his world, Anthony was willing to burn down clover’s, and that’s never going to be okay with her.

I wonder if Anthony even really thought about the fact that he’d be sacrificing part of his own world (his brothers) to protect another (daphne), or if he just expected them to be okay with it.

I feel like Josie is finally going to hear the truth about everything because clover’s going to be too mad to keep it a secret. When it was just her life at stake (when their fake relationship began), she was willing to take her suffering to the grave, but now that someone she loves is in danger, everyone is going to know how much pain she’s in.

Wow I know I keep saying this, but Anthony and clover are so similar. Both willing to suffer silently (and needlessly) for themselves, but they’re immediately sounding every alarm the moment they perceive their family as being in trouble.

They are both trying to control everything around them to make sure that their families stay safe. Their control issues show up every time the two of them fight: both fighting for control to make their own family the priority, even if it’s just a conversation.

Weirdly, clover almost has better personal boundaries, even if it’s because she’s practicing self preservation and being overly defensive, because when Anthony tried to walk all over her, she immediately put him in his place, but Anthony pretty much considers himself a martyr for the betterment of his family and would let anything happen to himself in order to let them be happy.

This is kind of interesting because I feel like clover sees herself as a martyr too because she was one for so long. She sacrificed herself over and over again to protect teddy, to the point where she basically burned out. So now every time she gets anywhere near that ledge, she immediately tries to flee.

But she clearly doesn’t realize this because she for so long clearly planned to sacrifice her own life by marrying an old, abusive man and keep it quiet to protect teddy and her family from the truth, and to protect herself in what little ways she could. But again, the moment she thought that that could be a reality, she had a panic attack and ran. (I believe this is in the chapter at the opera house)

Okay going back to this chapter: I’m so mad because Ben and clover are clearly just in a super sucky situation all around, and both trying the best they can to protect each other, only it backfires miserably in this case.

Honestly I’m mad at Anthony on behalf of clover. Like daphne and Simon are annoying, but ultimately they didn’t do anything that clover and Ben didn’t already do, so it’s not as condemnable, but Anthony so clearly is trying to protect his family by sacrificing everyone else, which is admirable in theory but so not cool in practice.

Idk a lot of thoughts, as always. Ugh this cliffhanger is killing me and it hasn’t even been an hour lmao.

Damn this season is fucking wild for the bridgertons lmao I love it

Omg omg CMA honeeeey! ❤️ I have so many thoughts about this! 😱❤️

Aw I hope your finals went well! 🥰

Colin will never stop roasting both Benedict and Anthony 😂 He loves it😁

Josie had her thoughts ever since that dinner...😏

I totally agree with you on the Anthony thing! ❤️ Like, for him family is the most important thing, that's also why he never even implied his feelings for Charlie because he thought Benedict had feelings for her, and he is so used to sacrificing himself for his family that he didn't even consider doing anything else ❤️

He would do anything for Charlie as well🥰😍

Like, Anthony made up his mind about Clover before even bothering to get to know her, and he was incredibly angry because he thought she somehow caused Lottie's heartbreak😁 But now he knows that's not the case😏

And also, the minute Clover married Benedict, she became family ❤️ So like at this point, Anthony would do anything for her as well because she's a part of his family, regardless of their earlier arguments or future ones😁

They really are so similar😏

Omg different types of trauma for them both, exactly! 😱

Yessss Benedict didn't even tell her he was going to a duel❤️ Like, he was ready to die for Anthony and the only thing he told her was that he loved her 😭

Oh yeah, Anthony definitely confessed his love for Lottie 😏❤️ After years! ❤️

I know it’s fair because he’s been doing everything perfectly so far and he was bound to mess up at some point, plus I know he’s doing it with the best intentions but still Funny you should mention that darling, because when the actual angst hits and Benedict messing up happens... 😈

You're absolutely right, she is a hurricaneeee😈

She will be incredibly angry at Anthony as well for putting Benedict in danger but mostly Benedict for putting himself in danger like that 😏

She will stay in the house but their dynamic...😏 It'll be different!

I don't think they will know about the duel actually! 😱 Because that would lead to them knowing the real reason behind that wedding 😏

That whole family is so ready to die for each other! 😂 No questions asked whatsoever 😁

Oh Benedict didn't leave her any letters or anything 😈

Enemies to lovers clover and Anthony when? I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THAT AU HELP😁

In order to protect his world, Anthony was willing to burn down clover’s, and that’s never going to be okay with her. I LOVE THIS SENTENCE SO MUCH😍😭 It's so good! ❤️

Both Anthony and Clover get feral when it comes to their family being in any kind of danger and yessss they both have control issues! ❤️ That's also why they clashed that much from the first minute they started talking to each other 😁

She sacrificed herself over and over again to protect teddy, to the point where she basically burned out. So now every time she gets anywhere near that ledge, she immediately tries to flee. Absolutely! ❤️ She is terrified of it and that's also why she is so much in denial about her feelings for Benedict and their marriage ❤️

Both Anthony and Clover would totally die for their families, no hesitation ❤️ Totally martyrs! ❤️

I am very excited for the next chapter 😈❤️

Darling, thank you so much, this is so good! ❤️ You're amazing, ILYSM! ❤️

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whysojiminimnida · 2 years

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THE JEON-PARKS ARE DANCE GODS BUT THEY CAN ALSO KICK YOUR ASS

And many thanks to @slowburnwithahappyending for sending me some dance nerd questions to keep me happy and blogging instead of, y'know, going outside and touching grass or something crazy like that ANYWAY I'm so sorry this is so very late. I am easily distracted by shiny things, apparently.

Seriously slowburn is so cool, the query goes thusly:

"I wonder if Jm and Jk background in martial arts can be viewed as advantage regarding dance and to what extent?" And the answer, as you might have guessed, is OH HELL YES. With a qualifier here or there. You ready? LET'S GET IT:

And here is some background on Jimin's martial arts training and level of accomplishment. UH THIS MAN IS DANGEROUS IF YOU DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW. I would not piss him off, for real.

youtube

To summarize, he's at least a 3rd-4th Dan (equivalent to a 5-7th degree black belt) in Kendo so he can kill you with a stick. He's studied hapkido, holds at least a First Dan black belt in Taekwondo, and reportedly has also received some training in other forms in China. The advantages, from a dance standpoint, are numerous. He developed coordination and core strength early, as well as discipline, speed and precision. Dance training was easier later because the hard work and hours of physical effort were not unfamiliar to him by that time. This is a kid who worked HARD. Jimin also got exceptional balance, a head start on the elevation of jumps and the spotting motion necessary for spins and rapid turns, and had a good sense of body mechanics probably before he ever started dance training. That was very helpful for him.

NOW Jungkook has said that he has a red-and-black belt in Taekwondo. What this means is that he was trained to black belt level, but he was not yet 16 Korean age - the age necessary to achieve full official black belt standing with the World Taekwondo Federation. Once he hit his sixteenth year he was eligible to have that belt switched to solid black and it appears that he did so. But it also looks like he trained wearing a black belt from a very early age, which many schools do allow outside competition :

youtube

So, similarly, Jungkook can kick your ass and smile and he does not need boxing gloves to do it. That he took up boxing is not a surprise given his talent for Taekwondo. It also helped his dance in many of the same ways that Jimin's training did. One difference is that a TKD dan level can be reached in about three to four years. So Jimin has the advantage in terms of hours of work put in on martial arts prior to his dance training, and also in terms of dance training hours, possibly. That doesn't take away from JeiKei's work ethic or talent, though. Dude is insanely good. NOW THE DOWNSIDE BESIDES THAT LOCKER ROOM SMELL

Where martial arts is an issue with dance is in two areas: injuries and technique. And the two go hand in hand. Jungkook wins out here. He has less technical training in both martial arts and in dance. (CALM DOWN I DIDN'T SAY HE WAS UNTRAINED. JIMIN JUST HAS STUPID AMOUNTS OF HARDCORE TECHNIQUE TRAINING OKAY). This means that he had LESS, not more, to un-learn to get the dance technique correct. He also does not train contemporary dance as a rule. Hip hop is technical but much closer to martial arts in its execution. Jiminie runs into problems because different muscle groups are used for different types of dance and different martial arts styles and getting your body to work them ALL is.. a LOT. It can be done but it is not easy on the hips, the spine, or the shoulders and neck. Any of the joints really. It also causes him some technical headaches when changing styles. Koo does what Koo wants so he DGAF really, but he's also a bit less likely to get hurt as a result. SO OKAY I WROTE ANOTHER BOOK ACCCKKKKK SORRY NOT SORRY

More from the @slowburnwithahappyending folder soon. I hope that helped answer your question!

#dancer dancer romancer shit #dance nerdism #jimin #jungkook #questions from down in front #thanks @slowburnwithahappyending #kendo #dan levels #taekwondo #hapkido #boxing #dance #must be 2022 at the jeon park household #don't mess with these guys they can kill you #with or without a stick #jikook kicks ass #minggukie supremacy #Youtube

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marauders-venting · 3 years

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Pardon My French

pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 3556

note: thank you to @ probably_wizardingworld_artist on instagram for helping me translate things into french. also i got some of the lines that sirius says from this website https://www.fluentu.com/blog/french/french-pick-up-lines/

a/n: if you dont speak french (like me) dont look up a translation! everything will be clear by the end of the fic and its more fun if you find out along with remus. i mean, i cant really stop you if you want to translate the sentences but thats just my advice :)

Remus was sitting in the library, a French to English dictionary open on his lap, sighing in frustration as he flipped through the pages. For the past couple of weeks, Sirius had taken to murmuring things in French under his breath and it drove Remus crazy that he didn’t know what they meant. He had asked Sirius on several occasions but Sirius always refused to tell him. But the fact that he didn’t understand the words wasn’t the only reason it drove him crazy when Sirius spoke French. It’s not Remus’ fault that Sirius sounds really hot when his lips curve around the words in “the language of love”.

Remus tries not to think about it but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult because every time they’re alone together Sirius seems to find something to say in French (if only to piss Remus off).

The last time Sirius had said something in French to him had been last weekend. It was the first sunny weekend since the winter and Marlene had suggested that they all go down to the lake for a swim.

Remus’ brain could barely form a single coherent thought from the moment Sirius took off his shirt; he was too busy trying not to stare. He remembered jumping into the lake and trying to get warm by swimming to the far side, away from all his friends. Sirius had followed him to make sure he was okay.

“I’m fine,” he had said, smiling slightly at Sirius. “Just cold.”

“Oh okay,” Sirius said, looking relieved. He had glanced back at their friends before whispering, “On devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique” and submerging his head in the water and swimming back to James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and Alice. Remus had felt a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Then there was the time that Sirius had skipped Quidditch practice to visit Remus in the hospital wing after a particularly bad full moon. James, being the captain, had been able to delay the practice so that he and Peter could come to visit as well but they had to practice for the game the following day. James had to be at the practice because he was the captain and Peter had to be there because they didn’t have another Keeper to fill in. But James had given Sirius permission to stay with Remus (which showed just how terrible he felt that he couldn’t stay as well). They watched a bit of the practice from the hospital wing but Remus was getting frustrated, having to stay in a hospital bed for so long. So, after clearing it with Madam Pomfrey, Sirius helped Remus climb all the way to the Astronomy Tower. They sat up there watching the sunset when Sirius said, “Il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes.”

“Ugh, do you make it your life goal to patronize me?” Remus had said.

“Of course, Moony, what else would I live for?”

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Sirius had replied, grinning at him. “It’s too much fun.”

“Why do you even bother?” Remus said. “You know I don’t understand a single word of what you’re saying. Why don’t you go talk to someone who speaks French?”

“Because then they’d know what I was saying,” Sirius replied simply. He had refused to answer any more of his questions.

Remus had needed to spend that night in the hospital wing again. All night, Sirius’ voice rang through his head but every time he tried to make something coherent of it, actually words or letters or even sounds, he couldn’t. He could never remember what Sirius had said long enough to actually look it up or ask anyone.

But lately, Remus had noticed that Sirius had been repeating the same sentence in French practically every day. He recognises the sound of the words in Sirius’ mouth.

So today, Remus waited until he was alone with Sirius, waited for Sirius to say what Remus knew he would. And when he did Remus repeated the words in his head a million times until he remembered them. And now Remus was in the library and looking up the words in a dictionary.

He knew that he could’ve gone to Lily and asked her to translate it for him but he didn’t want to. He knows it’s stupid but he feels like this is something that Sirius is saying to him and only to him. Remus had never heard Sirius whisper in French to anyone else. And as much as Remus pretended to be annoyed by it, he actually liked that he had this with Sirius. He liked that they had something that was just their own. And even though it was probably nothing, he didn’t want to share it with Lily right now.

Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi. That was the sentence. Remus looked up each word individually and came to the conclusion that he must have heard wrong or maybe the words were spelt differently to how they were pronounced. Because there was no way in hell that Sirius had said these words to him. It was impossible. Right? Remus didn’t know. And he knew that the only way he could be sure was by asking Lily. He had asked Sirius a million times to no avail. And he needs to know what Sirius has been saying to him, especially now that there’s a chance… No, Remus tells himself, you just translated wrong. Don’t get your hopes up. So Remus gives in. He’d rather ask Lily and find out what Sirius has been saying to him every day for the last month than keep this to himself without even understanding it.

“Hey Lily,” he started, getting her attention. Remus had waited until the two of them were alone, just in case he had translated right. Which he hadn’t. He knows he translated it wrong. But he’d still rather nobody knew about it. “What does ‘chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi’ mean?” He fumbled across the words a bit, hearing how terrible his pronunciation was. Lily looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

“Where on earth did you hear that sentence?” she asked.

“I read it somewhere,” Remus lied easily. “So what does it mean?”

“It means ‘every day, I fall more in love with you.’” Remus’ jaw dropped open. “Remus, who told you they’re in love with you?”

“What? Nobody! What makes you think someone said that to me?”

“You said that you read that sentence somewhere but if you had read it, you would have no idea how to pronounce it. Besides the look on your face when I told you what it means is more than enough. So who was it?”

“None of your business,” he said. “But y–you’re kidding, right? That’s not actually what it means. Right?”

“No, I’m not kidding, Rem. That’s what it means,” she replied, laughing at the look on his face. “Come on, tell me who it was.”

“No fucking way,” Remus said. “Besides, they’re probably joking. I mean… no, they’re definitely joking.” Lily shrugged.

“Just ask them,” she said. “And then you have to tell me who your secret admirer is.” She poked him in the side.

“Stooooop,” he said, jumping away from her and laughing against his will. “I’m going.” He got up and started walking away.

“Have fun with your mystery lover,” she called after him without looking back. Remus rolled his eyes but his mind was racing. So apparently he hadn’t been wrong. That was what Sirius had said to him. What does this even mean? He’s teasing you, said a voice in his head, like always. Sirius doesn’t love you. Not like that. But he said he does. Don’t be stupid. Sirius isn’t in love with you. He’s joking. Like always.

The next time Sirius said it, they were in the Room of Requirement. Sirius had ambushed Remus in the middle of his prefect rounds with Lily levitating a cardboard box in midair. Typical. He had practically given Remus a heart attack by interrupting his conversation with Lily, leaving Remus to wonder just how much of the conversation he had overheard.

“So have you talked to your mystery French lover yet?” Lily had teased. Remus groaned.

“No, I haven’t,” he said. “And I probably won’t.”

“Why not?” Lily demanded. “They’re being very romantic, Remus, you should at least appreciate their effort.”

“I’d appreciate it more if they’d just tell me what the fuck they want instead of sending me coded messages that they know I don’t understand,” Remus grumbled.

“Moonyyyyy,” Sirius said, coming up from behind him. Remus jumped, turning around, heart racing in his chest.

“Sirius? What are you doing here?” he asked. “You know it’s after hours, right?” Sirius snorted.

“Yes, Remus, I am fully aware of the fact that I’m breaking a school rule,” he said, smirking.

“Are you aware that technically Remus and I have to turn you in?” Lily said.

“Ah, but do you really plan on doing that, Evans?” Sirius asked.

“That depends,” she replied. “Why are you here?”

“Right,” Sirius remembered, then he turned to Remus. “James forgot to put this box with the rest of the stuff for tomorrow so I said I’d take it. And you’re coming with me.”

“Remind me why again?” Remus said.

“Moony, come on, don’t make me go alone. I’ll be lonely,” Sirius pouted.

“You are insufferable, did you know that?”

“And yet, you’ve tolerated me for 6 years now.”

“Yeah, the keyword there is ‘tolerated’,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “Lils…” he started, turning to her.

“Nope,” she said before he could even ask. “No way. You are not leaving me to do these rounds alone because then I’ll die of boredom. So unless you want me to tell McGonagall that your planning something for tomorrow, you’re going to finish this floor with me and then I’ll go back to the common room and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Evans…” Sirius pouted.

“Nope, that’s non-negotiable, Black. Also, do I want to ask?” She gestured to the hovering box.

“The less you know, the better,” he said. “Although, I would avoid the classrooms near the dungeons tomorrow if I were you.” She nodded and Remus thought he saw her smile slightly for a second.

“You go on, I’ll catch up,” he said to Sirius, knowing that Lily’s mind would not be changed. He couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have let her leave him to finish this chore alone either. She was right, it was painstakingly boring. Which is why he would much rather be with Sirius. But it was only fair that he finished tonight’s rounds with her; she did cover for him around the full moon, after all.

Sirius pouted but knew better than to argue and turned to go to the Room of Requirement. Remus watched him and he disappeared up a flight of stairs. Only then did he notice Lily was smirking at him.

“What?” he asked, sounding a bit defensive.

“So Sirius is your secret French admirer?” she said.

“W–What?” he spluttered. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, the look on your face when he showed up right behind us while we were talking about your mystery lover,” Lily said. “It was the look people make when you’ve just been talking about someone and then they show up and you’re worried that they may have overheard you.”

“That… is a very specific look,” Remus said, avoiding the question she was asking.

“Then you smiled at him when you called him insufferable,” she said.

“So?”

“So it was one of those I’m-smiling-at-you-while-I’m-teasing-you-cause-I’m-secretly-in-love-with-you smiles.”

“Again, that's a very specific expression,” he said.

“Look, I know you like him, so will you just admit it already?”

“Why? What good would that information do you? It’s for me to worry about and for Sirius to never discover, ever.”

“Remus, you’re kidding, right?” she said. “Sirius literally told you that he loves you, in French no less.”

“Exactly, Lily. In French. If he actually meant it, why would he say it in a language that he knows I don’t understand? He just knew that I would look it up and he wanted to make some joke.”

“I really don’t think so, Remus,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I think he really loves you.”

“He doesn’t,” Remus said. “He can’t. Not like that.”

“Remus, do you love him?” she asked. Remus closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I love him.”

“So why are you doing this to yourself? Just ask him what he meant when he said it. You don’t even have to tell him anything, just ask him what he meant.”

“But… what if he says it was a joke?”

“First of all, I don’t think he will,” Lily said. “But if he does, that’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it? It won’t be a surprise or anything.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Remus sighed and looked away from her. “I don’t think I’m ready to hear him say it. To be properly rejected.”

“Oh, Rem,” she said. They had reached the end of the corridor and Lily stopped to hug him. “Obviously I’m not going to make you do anything. You know what I think. Go find Sirius now, he’ll be waiting for you. Do what you think is right.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, hugging her back. “Yeah, okay.” So Lily went in the direction of the common room and Remus went to the Room of Requirement.

He found Sirius sitting with his back against the wall, the box beside him.

“You’re an idiot,” Remus told him, trying to put the conversation with Lily out of his mind. “You’re practically begging to get caught.” Sirius shrugged.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go in.” They paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. We need a place to hide our things, Remus thought. A door appeared and Sirius opened it, leading the box in with his wand. They had been here before to hide loads of things. The room was pretty cluttered from years of students dumping their things in it but they knew where exactly to hide the box so that they’d be able to find it tomorrow when they needed it. Remus followed Sirius through aisles upon aisles of junk, looking at all the broken, discarded things people threw in here.

They found the corner where they’d left everything else and Sirius added the box to the rest of the pile.

“Are we done here?” Remus asked.

“Yep, we can leave now,” Sirius said. They had started walking back towards the door when Remus heard Sirius say it from behind him.

“Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi.” Remus turns to him and stops him in his tracks.

“Pads, why do you keep saying that? Who are you talking to?”

“Remus, you are aware that you’re the only one here right? I’m talking to you.”

“Then why… why are you—?”

“I know, I know, you don’t understand French,” Sirius says. “That’s why it's fun. It’s amusing to know something that you don’t, for once.”

“Sirius… I know what that sentence means,” Remus says quietly. Sirius’ neck snaps up.

“What?”

“I know what that sentence means,” Remus repeats.

“No, you don’t,” Sirius says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do. I asked Lily after the last time you said it. She translated for me.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know Lily could speak French,” Sirius says, rubbing a hand over his face. “So… so this whole time you’ve known what I’m saying? So you know that I… you know that I… oh god, Remus I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to… I was just…” Sirius starts to back away, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at Remus. Remus reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Don’t go,” Remus says. “Sirius. Is it a joke? Are you making a joke? Actually, no, don’t tell me. Cause if it’s a joke I’d rather you bury me under all the crap in this room and spare me the pain.”

“What?”

“It’s not a joke, is it?” Remus asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

“No,” Sirius said, softly. “It’s not a joke. I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” Remus said, pressing a finger to Sirius’ lips. “Sirius,” Remus tucked Sirius’ hair behind his ear. Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius stepping towards him, towards his touch. “I love you, too.” Sirius gapes at him

“Really?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Remus says. He’s still holding Sirius’ hand. He pulls Sirius closer and lets his other hand graze Sirius’ cheek.

“Puis-je t'embrasser?” Sirius whispers.

“Pads, I… I don’t know what that means.” Sirius lets out a small laugh and looks down at the floor. Then he looks back up at Remus, his grey eyes glistening in the last sliver of sunlight. He’s biting his lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Remus says, without thinking. He feels the blush blooming on his cheeks but Sirius is already kissing him, rising on his tip-toes to make his lips reach Remus’. Remus feels electric currents dancing around his body, unable to contain the excitement. He’s kissing Sirius. Sirius is kissing him back. Sirius loves him. Sirius loves him in the same way that he loves Sirius. Sirius is snaking his hands around Remus’ waist pulling him closer. Sirius’ hair is soft, tangled between his fingers. Sirius is here, in his arms, and it’s everything Remus has been wanting and more.

“Wait, so now can you tell me everything you’ve been saying in French the whole time?” They’re sitting in the same large armchair, hands still linked together, legs tucked against their chests, knees and thighs and hips pressed together. Remus is very aware of every point where his skin is making contact with Sirius’. He’s counting them.

They found the armchair in the Room of Requirement; it’s unclear to them whether the chair is something that’s been dumped in the room by somebody else or if the room conjured it up because they were looking for it.

Neither one of them wants to go back to the common room yet. Remus doesn’t want to see Lily’s smirk and to have to admit she was right at the moment. He’ll do that tomorrow. Right now, all he wants is to be with Sirius. To press little kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips just because he can.

“Oh god,” Sirius says, burying his face in between Remus’ shoulder and the back of the armchair. “It’s like you want me to embarrass myself.”

“This surprises you?” Remus kisses the corner of his mouth. Then his jaw. Then his neck. Just because he can. “Please.”

“Ah fine,” Sirius gives in. “Um, what do you want to know?”

“What did you say that day at the lake?” Remus asks.

“Oh that. I said, ‘on devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique’. It means uh… ugh, you’re going to laugh at me for this. It means ‘you should be arrested for excessive beauty in public’,” Sirius said, blushing. Remus rolled his eyes but he felt his cheeks heat too. He smiles a little.

“What about that day on the Astronomy Tower?” he continues.

“Ugh,” Sirius buries his face in his hands. “You’re trying to kill me. I said, ‘il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes’. Which means, uh… ‘there’s so much sun in your eyes that I get a tan when you look at me.’”

“You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?” Remus smiles. “And what about tonight?”

“I thought you said you knew what that meant,” Sirius says. “Or were you bluffing the whole time?”

“No, I know what it means,” Remus says. “I just want to hear you say it. In English this time, please.”

“So demanding,” Sirius teases. “I’ve said it in French a million times already and you want me to say it in English? What difference does it make?”

“Well, none to you, you speak both languages.”

“Oh, alright,” Sirius says. It’s the first time Remus has seen his face really go red. He decides he likes it. “Every day I fall more in love with you.” Remus can’t hide his smile, nor does he want to, as he leans in to kiss Sirius. He brushes his lips against Sirius’ timidly before connecting them, his hand caressing Sirius’ cheek. Remus loses count of the points of contact between him and Sirius as their bodies melt together and Remus worries that he’s about to wake up from a dream. But when he feels Sirius’ hand gently tracing the scars on his hand he knows that this is real, that Sirius can really love him. Sirius does love him.

People come to the Room of Requirement to throw things away, to hide things that they don’t want anybody else to know about, to leave things they never want to see again. But that night, Remus didn’t just leave something in the Room of Requirement. He found something, too.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #french sirius #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #lily evans #lily evans fluff #Marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

A Failed Betrothal (4)

Am I doing this right? I mostly do write this when I am between the state of sleep and awareness. Hope you enjoy this.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1) (Part 3)

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PART 4

Marinette came to a dungeon cell with two other prisoners. One of them was awake and he looked vaguely familiar. The other had an ugly red helmet that didn’t help with the headache she had.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked the handsome stranger with beautiful green eyes, her throat a little dry.

Wait. Handsome?

No bad Marinette. Don’t fall for fellow prisoners, no matter how cute he looks. Oh Kwamis, she was already screwed.

He still hadn’t replied. Maybe he didn’t understand French. She tried to ask again in another language before her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. She faked unconsciousness. Later, she heard the iron door open. She looked through the tiniest slits of her eyes she could muster while the two held a staring/glaring match. Oh shit, that’s the fame Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s, head of the League of Shadows, and the boy she was glaring at had some resemblance to her, so he must be her son, Dennis? Daniel? Damon?

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

Ohh..Damian. Where had she heard that name before?

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Ouch, that hurts. Well, Damian, just because I forgot your name does not mean you can call me a little girl. I can also kill you very easily and painfully.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Red Helmet, Jason, is officially not going on her hit list for his atrocious fashion choices. But that red monstrosity still needs to go.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Marinette felt her hair being yanked. A little pain was expected but the really sharp claws digging into her scalp was not. Making her cry and tear up.

”I am so sorry, kit.” Plagg whispered in the kwami language, loosening his claws.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Damian growled out.

Geez, thanks for the compliment, it’s not like you ever had a tiny cat dig its claws into your scalp out of surprise. (Damian once had a kitten thrown at his head and if he knew about Plagg, he would have been sympathetic.) Marinette started begging for mercy, hoping they would buy the helpless girl out of the suit that is ill-suited for the job she had been chosen for and had no idea on how to escape.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.”

Oh kwamis, what did she ever do to have such a picky groom? The more he insults her, the less she wants to be married to him.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection."

Great, another reason to stop her mother from killing a senile old man.

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

So that’s where she heard it from. The boy was the son of the daughter of a guy who leads a secret order of assassins and a man that owns a multi-million business. How even did a billionaire meet an assassin, ends up in bed with her and lives? Something to think about for later. She quieted down her sobs, (beat that acting, Rossi) kept her voice low to hatch out a plan with Plagg in the kwami language while the mother-son duo bickered.

“Hey, Plagg before you go, you think I can do that thing, the one which your one of your past holders from Japan can do.”

“You have a lot of potential for destruction but you have not used the ring for a long time yet so I am not sure.”

“I will give it a go anyways. Nothing to lose after all. See you later, Plagg.” Marinette smiled, one that drove fear into the hearts of even the bravest of people. Plagg returned it, already loving the new Guardian before zipping out of the cell to do some scouting. Using the enhanced strength the French superheroine got from prolonged use of the Miraculous, she yanked the chains of the walls and wrapped them around Talia’s neck, cutting off her air supply.

The League of Assassins thought that they could kidnap her and get away with it. But they were no match for the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the deadly Blue Reaper. A high ranking member from the group of assassins and mercenaries called the Guild of Night, who had semi-retired. Kidnapping her was a bad move to make as it meant they had declared war on the Guild, despite the reason behind her abduction having a completely different intention.

She whispered as such to the older woman in her tight grip, making sure the League would know how much they had fucked up. After dropping the limp body, she took a deep breath and tried channeling some of her energy for what she was about to do.

Well, here goes nothing.

She breathed out on the shackles, turning it to rust.

Success!

She introduced herself as Lady and concentrated the energy from before into her hand, forming inky black orbs of destruction in order to free her fellow captives. She felt a little drained from doing magic out of the suit and tried not to show it. Plagg returned, informing her of where the Ra’s and the Pits were. She grinned at the thought of showing old Ra’s who the boss is and made sure he regretted ever messing with her. She explained about Plagg as vaguely as she can, no need to let anyone know about the miraculous than necessary. Sure her plan sounds insane but the boys don’t know who they were with.

She would worry about that curse after she got out of Nanda Parbat. Although she could probably find something in the grimoire to reverse it, she was still an amateur at magic so it was best to have a professional to take care of it. Marinette didn’t want to be with such an asshole, no matter how striking he looks in those regal robes.

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Picking off the League assassins, one by one was easy especially in her transformed state. She hadn’t appraised her suit properly but from what she had seen, it wasn’t like Chat Noir’s leather get-up. She was armoured in vital areas and her colour scheme was mainly black with green accents. There were vials that were probably poisons and pouches which she decided to look at later. She still had a long braid as a tail from her brief stint as Lady Noire and she wondered why her suit was different. While hiding in a niche she found, she called the bakery via the comm in one of her various pouches.

“Hello?”

“Papa, it’s me, Marinette. Do you know where Maman is?”

“She went out of Paris, talking about how this League must pay. I think she is meeting up with several of her old friends. Are you alright, my little blossom? I know you can take care of yourself but I worry.” The relief in Tom’s voice was palpable. However, she was right and the Guild was going to war against the League. Marinette was adored by nearly everyone in the Guild due to her strangely bubbly and cheery personality in the harsh and brutal lifestyle.

“I am fine, Papa. Did Maman use the Horse to leave? And how are my friends?” She knew they might be in a panic after her disappearance.

“I think she did. I didn’t see Kalki when I went to feed the kwamis. Your friends panicked when they found out you were kidnapped. But they are fine now, mostly worried about you. Took care of some akumas and senti monsters by themselves. I think your fencer friend, Kagami, knows more about the League than she lets on.” Of course, she does. Her mother was a member of the Guild before being blinded due to a mission. Kagami and her actually first met during a reunion party of sorts.

“Thank you, Papa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and dialed the personal phone number her mother uses that only Marinette and her father knows about. She waited for the call to connect, trying to think of ways to stop her mother from storming into the League’s base of operation.

“Maman, it’s me. I know you want to attack the League right this minute. But I have a better plan. Can you get Tikki’s earrings from Alix? We can use them and the ring to destroy the Lazarus Pits. Make them really angry.” She peeked out of the niche she was hiding in. She had been there for a while and needed to move to gain some grounds.

“Where are you? And are you okay?” Panic and worry filled her usually composed mother’s voice.

“I am somewhere in Nanda Parbat and I am fine. I was nearly married off to Talia’s son but I am not now. I think.” Marinette replied. Better to rip that band-aid off before she showed up with her would-have-been-husband. She jumped out of the niche and looked

“Kalki, Full Gallop. Okay, we will talk about the ‘nearly married’ part later. What was this plan to destroy the Lazarus Pits?” Sabine thought she was already used to Marinette’s brand of craziness that was her normal but apparently, not.

“I am currently on my way there. Plagg said we need Tikki to get rid of them. Since the League pissed me off and by extension you and the rest of the Guild, I thought our first move against them is to destroy the Pits and a trail of bodies. By the way, can you get some cheese for Plagg?” Marinette ran through the halls, knocking out some poor sod with a whack on the head.

Silence. She thought Sabine had hung up when-

“Voyage. Alix, where are you? We need Tikki for one of Marinette’s insane plans. And Marinette, stay safe, sweety, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“Bye, Maman. See you there.”

Marinette turned another corner, the last one before the path that leads to the entrance where the Lazarus Pits were. She only managed to find it with Plagg’s voice in her head, whispering directions and Tikki’s luck. Unfortunately, the luck ran out because the entrance had a lot of guards who had spotted her.

Crap.

She hoped her mother would get here soon. Thankfully, being transformed gave her a boost and would help her to hold her ground for a while.

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Damian and Red Hood followed the trail of unconscious bodies and sounds of fights, trying to find Lady. Damian was impressed at the level of her skills to defeat many of the League’s assassins although he could probably do better. They relied on his memory to find the Lazarus Pits which was their best bet to finding her as she claimed to be able to destroy them. If Lady possessed such powers, they must find out whether she is a threat to the world or not. And also break the infernal curse they have.

Red Hood was silent mostly. He made a few jabs about how kick ass his ‘bride’ was and how the current Robin should not let her get away. Damian tried really hard not to just maim his adopted brother and also ignore that little fluttering in his chest that happened every time they saw an unconscious assassin left behind by Lady. The sounds of fighting got louder as they got nearer to the entrance. They turned the final corner to see Lady fighting against the guards who outnumbered her. But she seemed to be doing fine against them. Mostly.

One had slipped through her defenses and nearly stabbed her in the back if it weren’t for Damian grabbing one of Red Hood’s guns and shooting a rubber bullet to the neck. He jumped into the fight, grabbing the fallen assassin’s sword and taking out the knife he got from his mother. Jason joined in too, not going to let the two teens have all the fun.

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“Thanks for the save, Al Ghul but I don’t know why you bothered when me being dead would solve your curse problem.” Lady said as the guards laid around them and they tried to catch their breath.

“It’s Wayne. I go by Wayne these days. Being an Al Ghul is not something I learned to be proud of. And as much as I don’t want this curse, your death is not worth that price.” he replied, “Although, I have to wonder why you would choose to die rather than live.”

She chuckled, “Okay, Wayne, to answer your question. Petty teenage drama makes death much more preferable. On top of that, I have responsibilities that I was practically forced into for doing one little act of kindness.” Her tone was joking but there was a touch of bitterness in it. It made Damian want to find out what caused it. Red Hood looked at her in concern. Lady went down the stairs, ignoring their reactions to her words. They followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her again.

The Lazarus Pits emitted a green glow that lit up the cave and cast strange shadows on the walls. At the edge of the glowing toxic green waters was a woman in dark blue clothing and strangely enough wearing sunglasses. Strapped to her sides were two Dao, ancient Chinese swords. She wore a vindictive expression on her face as she stood staring at the green lake, likely to kill anyone who gets in her way. Damian didn’t recognize the woman as part of the League but taking no chances, he got into a fighting stance and Hood did the same. Lady calmly approached the woman. He reached out to grab her to stop her suicidal nature when she shocked him by speaking to the blue-clad assassin in French,

“Hey, Maman, sorry I am late. I had a little trouble with the guards upstairs. You have Tikki?”

Lady’s mother rushed to hug her, “灵儿 (líng er), I am just glad you are alright. I knew you could handle yourself.”

How the hell did Lady’s mother get to the Lazarus Pits faster than them and snuck past several vigilant guards? Before Damian could question further, a red blur appeared and went to Lady’s face, hugging her cheek. It appeared to be the same size as Plagg but was red, looked like a bug and had a black dot on its forehead.

“Oh, Marinette, you are alright. I was so worried when your mother showed up, saying you were kidnapped and needed my earrings to escape.” Unlike Plagg’s nasally voice, her voice was sweet and shrill.

So, my bride’s name is Marinette. Such a unique name for an intriguing girl.

Wait what?

Wayne, stop thinking such ridiculous notions. That is probably the curse working. Resist against it. He will not be ensnared in the traps of such magic. He hoped that the curse will be reversed before he turns and act like those fools in Grayson’s idiotic shows or Todd’s ‘secret’ romance novels.

“I am fine now. See,” reassured Lady, “We actually need you and Plagg to reverse the Lazarus Pits to what it was before someone made the wish that resulted in them in the first place. Oh, I almost forgot. Plagg, claws in.”

Green light flashed, leaving Lady in her wedding robes (which actually flatter her body. Shit. Think of something else. Drake with a smug superior smile that needs to be wiped off his face. Grayson and his plans for ‘family bonding’) and Plagg to reappear.

“Cheese.” whined the cat-like kwami(?) to which the older woman held out a brown bag that smelled and made Plagg perk up in delight. He proceeded to open the bag, taking out a slice of stinky cheese, muttering about the greatness of camembert.

Todd cleared his throat and asked in English, “Umm...Pixie as much as your reunion is touching. Who’s the new lady?”

“Oh Right, sorry. Well, Red Hood, this is my mother, the Blue Reaper of the Guild of Night. Maman, this is Red Hood and the one next to him is my husband-to-be and Talia’s Spawn, Damian Wayne.”

Lady introduced them, also in English. Damian stilled in fear, recognizing the name. The Blue Reaper nearly became his mother-in-law. She was famous for her efficiency and ruthlessness. And gained her nickname from the blue clothing she often wore as she killed her targets. His eyes also widened at how his grandfather had gone a little too far now by kidnapping the Reaper’s daughter. There were other organizations that could possibly take down the League if it weren’t for the somewhat truce between Ra’s and the other leaders. The Guild was one of them and having the Lazarus Pits to revive their soldiers made the League a little more powerful. But if what the mother-daughter duo were planning succeeded, then the League was going to have one of its most deadly wars in its history and would probably never recover from.

“Tikki, Plagg, you guys ready?” asked Lady.

“Yes, Guardian.” They both replied and emitted a blinding red and green light which Damian shielded his eyes from. When it died down, the Lazarus Pits no longer glowed a toxic green and looked… like normal hot spring water.

“Oh. I wished I could see Ra’s face when he finds out.” Lady laughed. Plagg and Todd joined in.

“Pixie, I am beginning to like you.”

“Voyage. That being said, it’s time to go home, Marinette. Your father must be worried sick about us by now. I hope you boys can find your own way back.” A portal opened up, showing a cozy living room. Damian grabbed Lady’s wrist as she moved towards it.

“Wait, let us come with you. We need to contact someone to get rid of the curse on both of us. And we can also call our father to send us tickets for a ride home wherever you live.”

“Curse? Marinette, you never mentioned a curse in your call.” Blue Reaper said, raising her eyebrow.

“I will explain later. They can come with us and I am pretty sure Ra’s knows that we have escaped by now.” Lady grabbed the two brothers and dragged them through the portal.

She then threw herself onto the couch after releasing her hold on them and the two pocket gods went to comfort her after her ordeal. The Blue Reaper stood where the other portal was and fed a floating tiny gray horse, that must be the same species as Tikki or Plagg, some sugarcubes.

“You boys must be tired but the showers are upstairs and we might have some clothes your size. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can stay the night if you want. Welcome to Paris.”

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(Part 5)

#damian x marinette #mlb x dc #daminette #maribat #Betrothal AU: take 2 #A Failed Betrothal #assassin marinette #sort of #assassin sabine cheng #definitely #Jason is just here for a ride #marinette is a little petty

488 notes · View notes

barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part four

summary: friends who fool around almost never works. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: idiots, that’s all <3

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three, part four (6.7k), part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: my favorite part by mac miller, addicted by jorja smith, someone to spend time with by los retros

note: finally got myself to update this fic oml zzz quick psa tho, this will now be a six-part series! hope that’s okay and yenno as always, would love to hear what you think about this (validate me in the tags pls im lonely) happy reading babes! <3

“Yo, grandma. Haven’t you had too much tea to drink?” his voice echoes in the room as soon as he walks into it. You carefully set the cup down on the dining table and looked at him exasperatedly.

“Haven’t you had too much care to give?” you snark back, earning yourself a disappointed look from him.

“Really, y/n? That’s the best you’ve got?” he shakes his head at your appalling retort. What a shame.

You were good at pissing him off to be fair. You just weren’t in the mood to throw teases back and forth especially now that you’re feeling particularly vulnerable.

The week has been far too dreadful for you and you know that you’re willing to grovel your way into the weekend to finally have the time to slack off, not worry about taking a bath, and just go crazy with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

However, just like always, Mathew seems to never run out of ways to get on your nerves.

He carelessly puts his stuff on the table, causing a fairly loud thud on the surface.

You let out a deep breath, massaging your temple.

“Somebody’s cranky.” he grins. Not necessarily the kind you’d want to see from him.

You try to ignore him for a few minutes but you can’t help noticing how his build easily took over much of the space you’ve already been occupying. You irkingly look up at him, closing the book you were reading. You meet Mat’s eyes who just innocently looked back into yours. Waiting. Possibly plotting on yet another sophisticated way to toy with you.

“You’re a child.” you roll your eyes and return to your reading. He says nothing and instead rests his chin atop his enclasped hands, continuing to bother you with his ridiculously beguiling eyes. He presses his lips together before sighing dramatically.

“What?” you snap, finally shutting your book down as you look at him.

“I wanna go out.” he looks up at you in an effort to make his huge physique smaller than it really was.

“Then go out. You’re a big boy.” you breathe.

“You just said that I’m a child.” he coos, mimicking a five-year-old’s voice.

“Stop that.” you glare at him. Mat props himself back and laughs, “Come on. I’m bored.”

You open your book again just as you reply in a tone that Mat’s getting used to hearing. “Boredom doesn’t give you the right to pester me, Barzal.”

And as an exchange, he speaks in the same tone rather mockingly, “And so is that attitude, Y/L/N.”

“Come on, y/n. Let’s go out.” he now pleads, looking up at you with what seems to be his worst impression of a ‘puppy eye’.

“Fine.” you finally concede and you see Mat’s beaming smile instantly.

“Where’d you want to go?” you ask as you take your reading glasses off.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, obviously teasing.

On the edge of being irritated, you say, “Are you kidding me?”

“Grandma.” he mumbles before saying, “Do you have anything you want to do? And please don’t say book hunt.”

You suppress a smile and maintain your composure. “I’m craving for pancakes right now but I also wanna drink. Go to a bar or something.”

He nods in agreement. Already stitching his game plan.

“We can do both.” he bobs his all too fine brows.

He didn’t have a hard time getting you on board with his spontaneity. You actually haven’t gone out in a while and the thought of a possible night out doesn’t seem to be so bad of an idea.

You’ve been with Mat to parties and while the two of you don’t mingle as much as the other guys did, he does know his way around the club. The dance floor, however, he tries. He really does.

For about an hour Mathew waited patiently in the living room as he scrolled endlessly on instagram liking a few photos and laughing at posts the fans tag him occasionally. His eyes were peeled away from the screen when he heard the door to your room click. His irises trail onto your body even if he didn’t plan to originally.

Mathew, albeit dressed simply in his black turtleneck sweater and a beige overcoat exudes just about the right ‘swag’ (as per how he puts it) to stop you in your stupor. Although what you didn’t know was how you weren’t any different in his eyes. You were dressed quite nicely in a black lace bodysuit with a pair of blackpants accentuated by the black boots you usually wear on a night out. Your coat was slung on your forearm whilst you held your clutch purse in your hand so you could close the door with the other.

“What?” you blink just as you look down to eye yourself. Feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

Mat immediately breaks it off. He clears his throat, pretending to wipe off the non-existent dust on the accent table.

“What?” he mirrors with an arched brow.

You shrug off his demeanor, snatching your keys from the accent table before putting it in your purse.

“Have you called a lyft already?” he nods, absentmindedly scratching his temple.

“You ready? You look— decent.” He says, trying to act casual and distant when he gives you the compliment.

Not noticing the unfamiliar look his eyes had, you return the compliment and say, “And so do you. Good job for not looking like you came straight out of an H&M catalogue.” you wink at him with a grin. A thing which was then reciprocated by a deadpan look on his end.

Before he could even come up with yet another clever way to come at you, you start walking towards the door, looking at him once as you motion the way by curling your finger.

“Haul ass, buddy.”

𖥸

10:15 PM

Mat decided to bring you to the usual place he goes to when he wants to be alone and just enjoy a couple of beers while he chats with River, the bartender he eventually befriends after years spent drinking in solitude.

The bar had a rustic feel filled with wine barrels in the corner of the room. The seats were leather (mind you, it wasn’t the kind that gets easily worn out through time) and everything looked new to you regardless of all the vintage stuff displayed articulately on the brick wall. A turntable was set on the table stacked with vinyl records, most of which were from the 70s to 80s underneath.

It was obvious that it wasn’t the kind people would know about. Aside from it being located at such a secluded street leading to the suburbs, it wasn’t the type of bar kids would want to hang out in. It only had a few customers and most of them wore suits and came with company. No one really gave a hoot when you walked in with Mathew, aka, the face of the New York Islanders. Which is basically the reason why Mat kept coming back to the place. He felt comfortable and at peace. Almost in retrospect to being at home hanging with his father.

“I can’t believe this place exists.” you say, mouthing your thanks to River as he hands you both of your drinks. The man that’s definitely aged like fine wine smiles, nodding his head over to Mat who was doing the same before he headed back to mix another set of drinks.

“Me neither.” he grins, reminiscing about the time he’s found the small pub by accident.

“This place looks expensive though.” you whisper, making Mathew laugh.

“Well, it kinda is.” he sheepishly chuckles. “River’s filthy rich.”

“Is he really?” your mouth falls and you look back over the build of the old man. The way his salt and pepper hair was neatly slicked back makes quite a compelling case for what Mat had just said.

Mat eventually explains who he was. Apparently, he was just another bored fancy man who happened to love making people drop dead and drunk with his over the top mixes. His dark deep set brown eyes are quite of a crowd favourite too. Case in point, the group of ladies seated from across you and Mathew.

“Hey.” you absentmindedly call on Mat who had just sipped on his drink. “I know what we should do.”

“All right.” he puts the glass down, “Lay it on me.”

“Let’s fix you up with one of the girls over there.” you suggest, leaning towards his body so you could get a better view upfront. Mat does not move and instead follows your finger subtly pointing at the other end of the room.

“What’s with the sudden fixation of getting me bagged tonight, huh?” he smirks, shaking his head at the idea of having to go home with some random girl. You give him a side eye as you move away from him.

“Fixation is an overstatement. We’ll be here long enough for us to get sick of each other.” you explicitly told him.

Mat eyes you intently. Searching if there was even the slightest doubt in your eyes.

Long enough to get sick of each other.

He clears his throat instead and looks across the room. “Which one?”

A gleeful cheer erupts from you just before you look over the girls in question. “What’s your type?” you ask him, not sparing a glance.

Mat looks down on you underneath the bar lights accentuating your features. Your eyes had a certain glint in them that Mat still can’t get a grasp on. Something that was just enough to spark something inside him. He didn’t want to overthink it nonetheless. It must have been just the lights.

Once Mat sensed that you were about to look at him he immediately turned his gaze forward, squinting his eyes a little pretending to check out the women you’ve been eyeing for the last minute.

“I don’t really have a type.” he shrugs, casually taking the fragile glass to his mouth.

You dismiss what he said at once, “Do I look like a child to you? Just answer it.”

Mat shakes his head, “I told you. I don’t have one. If we vibe then we vibe. Simple as that.”

You did not believe him but you decide to drop it off. Instead, you look back and return to your new found mission. Across the bar, seated were three girls busy talking to each other.

“Got it.” you tell Mat, nodding your head towards the clueless girl sitting right across from where Mathew was. “The one in the center.” you add. “The one wearing a white bodycon.”

“She’s pretty.” he nods, validating your taste as his potential wingman. “Nice smile.”

Your hand met a firm slap on the table as you went on cheering for him. “Well? Go then!” you give him a nudge, taking it back quickly when you feel a slight hesitation on his part, “Don’t tell me you need me to introduce you?”

He takes the remainder of his glass and shaked off the kick it had in his throat. “You just sit and watch, babe.”

You do as you’re told and lean towards the bar, your elbow carrying all your weight whilst you sip on your half-full martini.

Mathew’s stance and the way he carries himself immediately caused the girls to notice him coming. Of course, you weren’t really surprised. You watch him approach her,– reading along the words leaving his mouth. There was an exchange of proper ‘hello’s’ as Mat introduced himself to the girls. He reaches out his hand and the curly noirette in the center gives him a firm shake.

Mat’s eyes momentarily locked with yours just as you see their hands linger in the air— tangled long enough for him to make a quick segway. He winks your way as he sees you grin from your seat, shaking your head just after you felt the need to take a deep breath. A thing you assumed to be because of the drink. So, while Mat leads the girl to one of the empty booths and sits across from her, you call on River and ask for another drink.

Mathew must have lost track of time by the second drink he shared with Zoe. He learns that she’s from upstate and was just on the island to visit her friends. She’s still working on her major at NYU; coincidentally in the same field as Lianna so that was one of the things they’ve talked about first hand. She wasn’t really into sports so Mat steered clear of his job because he didn’t want to bore her.

“So…” Zoe smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “What’s the deal with you and the girl you’re with?”

By the time she asked about you, only then did Mat remember who he was originally with.

“Oh! She’s—” he looks over to where you’re seated only to find you laughing— no giggling with a man that was obviously a few years older than you. He’s wearing a neat black suit and a button down shirt with a couple of its first buttons opened. Zoe sees him frown, evidently losing his train of thought.

She calls him with her sweet voice, “Mat?”

“Yeah?” he absentmindedly answers, not wanting to take his eyes off of your hand that was now gently pushing the man’s arm whilst the two of you continue to burst into laughter.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

What’s so funny?

Finally, Mat hears Zoe’s distant voice that eventually took him back to his seat.

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” he apologetically smiles. “Sorry. What were you saying again?”

She hesitates to ask about you after taking a quick glance your way upon seeing the way Mathew looked at you. Nevertheless, she decides to go for it.

“Aren’t you two together? I don’t want to come off strong here or anything. It’s just that I don’t want to get in between something if there ever is.”

Mat looks at you one more time and as if you’ve felt his eyes all along you turn your way and meet his gaze. You shoot him a quiet smile, eyeing the guy sitting beside you, mouthing what he assumes to be an exaggerated “So hot!” on your end. He reciprocates your smile and gives you an approving nod.

Once you looked away, that’s the only time Mat finally answered the woman waiting patiently for his attention.

“What?” Mat shakes his head wildly, blowing out air off his lips defensively. “No no no. We’re just friends. She’s my roommate actually.” he shrugs you off his mind and instead tries to put his entire focus on her.

The remaining hours were spent with you and Mat getting along with your respective potential hook-ups. Not that it wasn’t the endgame either of you were hoping for at the back of your minds.

He’s got to admit that Zoe was the kind of girl he’d be interested in. Another fact he’s kept a mental tab not to mention to you because he knows you’ll just get cocky.

She was sweet and obviously eloquent. He knows she’s way smarter than he’ll ever be. But out of all those qualities, she was just as passionate at her craft as someone he likes to think he knows well enough. And that alone made a small smile creep on his lips.

Nonetheless, despite all the aforementioned, Mathew found himself a bit more reserved than he usually is whenever he gets to meet and talk to his potential ‘lady friends’ as how you’ve put it countless times. He just wasn’t his exact self. And he was beginning to question it.

There were no fancy hockey plays thrown subtly into the conversation. Neither mentions of golfing nor over the top league events. No butchered french pet names swiftly tucked in his sentences. And no endless questions that would eventually lead to something along the lines of ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Well, not until Zoe’s friends got up their seats and she told him herself.

“Hey. The girls and I are meeting up with some friends in Brooklyn. D’ya wanna come?”

Mat’s eyes trail down to her hand now gently caressing his. He raises both his brows thinking of a possible ‘out’ because he wasn’t sure if it was a smart thing to leave you alone with a stranger.

He hums, “Sure.”

Zoe shows him a delighted smile before eventually sliding out of the booth to walk towards the bar she and her friends were formally seated.

“I gotta use the restroom first. Please excuse me.” she gives him a nod before going back to chatting with her friends.

You, on the other hand, see Mat leave the table aiming for an archway you presume to be where the loo was.

“Hey,” you call the man whose name you’ve already forgotten. Your pause was long enough for him to acknowledge the chances that you actually did forget who he was. Obviously.

“Chris.” The man in his early 30s answers with a submitting grin.

You shyly laugh, squeezing his forearm as you try to apologize for forgetting.

“Would you mind if I use the restroom?” you politely ask.

“No, not at all.” he replies and immediately stands to help you get on your feet. Gentleman.

Once you are in front of the men’s room, you anxiously wait for your wingman. You hug your purse close to your chest. Not a whole minute after, the door finally opens and you meet Mat’s irises with quite a gleeful look.

A look he wasn’t a fan of for he knew what’s about to come next.

“Are you taking off?” you eagerly ask, almost hopping on your feet.

Mat eyes you from head to toe, looking for signs that would stink from a drunk y/n. When he sees none, that’s when he decides to say that he was.

“Mkay good. I’ll be on my way too. Chris is taking me to New Jersey.” you tell him, briefly looking through the archway to see if there were people listening.

Once you know you’re clear, you lean towards Mat, your lips dangerously close to the sensitive skin of his ear. Mat feels your heated breath sending a familiar tingle up his spine. “I’ll get to ride a yacht tonight.” you bite your lower lip and giddily smile as if you were a cheeky 16 year-old usually depicted in a coming of age movie.

“Who’s Chris?” Mat, in spite of taking rounds observing you all night, finds the need to ask. “And why are you coming with him to NJ?” he further questions.

“Uh– okay, dad.” you step back for a second. You let out a scoff, checking if he was being serious about it. “I thought we’re supposed to go get laid tonight? Weren’t you about to take off with that girl yourself?”

Mat averts your gaze and starts to scratch the corner of his brow. “Well yeah. It’s just that— he looks sketchy.” he pauses, “plus… isn’t he a little too old for you?”

You roll your eyes as you’ve already expected to hear the words from him.

“He’s 31. He’s not that old.” you say rather defensively so you turn the ball back on his court. “And what if he was? Didn’t you ask one of the moms out??”

Mat’s eyes widens and you try to bite back a laugh. He whispers with a biting tone, trying to save himself. “She didn’t look like one! I’m gonna kill Beau I swear to god.”

“Come on Barz. Don’t be such a killjoy. Text me if you need anything, okay? Wrap things up while you’re at it.” you say at once. Mat doesn’t get the chance to talk you out of such a stupid idea because before he even could, you’ve already planted a kiss on his cheek and started walking away.

Mat waited for the sound of the heavy doors of the bar, signaling that you and your friend have gone, before stepping back to where Zoe was. She waves him near the coat closet.

“Hi.” Mat greets her friends before eventually turning his attention on the unsuspecting lass. She meets her with a smile (just like what she’s been doing all night). The same smile, however, drops the second Mat opens his mouth. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Zoe nods and willfully abides, letting Mat take her gently by the arm.

“What’s up?” she innocently asks.

“Something came up.” he says a little too fast than what he’d originally intended. He was going to let her down either way might as well get it over with and rip up the asshole band-aid.

“Oh.” she says in a tone Mat knew that she completely understood.

“No worries.” she looks at him with a knowing look in her eyes. “I’ll see you around then.”

He gives her a kind smile and nods. “Take care.”

Mathew walks towards the bar, catching River’s teasing grin whilst he cleans up after the bottles left on the center of the counter.

“What?” Mat reacts defensively, taking a seat in front of the lone bartender. River faintly shakes his head to leave just enough curiosity in Mathew’s mind.

“You’re such a tool, old man.” the kid says aiming for the cold beer River has put away for himself. River did not mind because he’s grown fond of the star player for the past years he’s spent going on late night drinks at his bar. Years that even justifies a proper amount of time for him to know the in’s and out’s of one Mathew Barzal.

“I haven’t said a thing.” he shrugs amidst the already wide grin on his face.

There’s wisdom in his eyes that Mathew has always admired. He wasn’t the guy who’d want to talk about what’s going on inside his head but with how River’s pub seems to be just the right place, he eventually concedes and takes a shot to pick on the old man’s brain.

“Come on, spill it out. I know you’re going to anyway.” Mat gives in, running his thumb on the moist label of the bottle.

River wipes his hands before resting it atop the counter. “Well, it’s just that– I ain’t used to seeing you turn down ladies like that too often. And you’re definitely not one to stick around watching me clean up.”

Mat stays silent for a moment, as if to gather the exact reason as to why he chose to stay. He still has a long way to go before figuring that one out. He wasn’t exactly as sharp as he was on the ice.

“I don’t know, man.” he chuckles tirelessly, “I guess I wasn’t in the mood. That’s all.”

“You?” River shots a brow and dismisses him, shaking his head. When Mat doesn’t answer, he carefully picks on his choice of words and lays it down carefully for him. After all, Mathew should have known that River was old enough to not know what’s going on.

“Though I gotta be honest with you, hijo. Never imagined you’d bring someone here.” he starts.

What must have been a shot in the dark for the old man was just enough to tear Mathew’s eyes away from staring at the water beads on the bottle.

“What?”

“The girl, Barz.” he says, banging on the head of the bottle to knock the cap off. “She a friend?”

“What? Y/N?” Mat quirks his brows trailing off where River was exactly headed, “What about her?— Oh, her? Yeah, no. She’s just a friend.”

“She pretty.” he speaks in a sound accent, not wanting to let Mat know he’s growing to like catching the young lad off guard. Mathew nods casually despite the continuous blabbering. “She’s y/n. But yeah— I guess, she is pretty.”

“Then what are you doing being just friends with a pretty girl?” River inquires, taking a sip of his beer. When he sees him trying to register what he’d just said he then adds, “Why not be with her? Date her?”

“Psh. What? Date y/n? That’s crazy.” Mat shakes his head furiously, “You’re crazy.”

“What’s so crazy about that?” River takes offense, laughing at the child’s naivete.

“I can’t date her. I mean— I won’t date her.” he takes the bottle to his mouth, taking a large gulp before continuing, “We’re in this weird relationship thing. A setup, actually, and it’s— it’s crazier than dating her. I swear, you of all people won’t get it.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” he smirks, “I’ve had my fair share of crazy.” River points out despite the hesitation in Mat’s eyes. “I got all night, kid.” he adds, letting him have the floor to himself.

“You really want in on this?” he second guesses, not wanting to bore the man with his personal life.

River leans against the brass counter just below the lit rack of vintage scotch displayed on the bar. He then gestures him to give a piece of his mind and Mat finally submits to his offer.

“We’ve been in a few… prior engagements,” he starts trying to find the appropriate word. “Well, sort of.”

River hums, not necessarily getting on the same page as him so he decides to be upfront about it.

“We’ve… slept together.” he confesses.

“So you used to date her?” the old man asks.

“No.” he answers, “I told you we’re just friends.”

With furrowed brows, River takes a minute. And once Mat hears an all too familiar “Oh.” he sees him break a chuckle, shaking his head at the thought of what Mat had just told him. “You kids have way too much fun these days.”

Mathew shrugs, “Hey, I warned you. Told you you wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay, make me understand something here. You two sleep together, fool around, do all that shit.” he says, “and you swear you’re not in a relationship?”

“Nope.” Mat answers with pride, popping out the word with a hard ‘p’.

“Huh.” River clicks his tongue, “How long have you two been… engaged?”

He rolls his eyes when River uses his word, “About two months.” he answers shortly.

“Is she seeing anyone since you two started this thing? You know, casual dates, the ones I presume she’s been getting before you got her into this mess?” he asks him in a tone that only fathers would ever dare to use.

Mat thinks for a moment, trying to recall the last time he’s seen a guy pick you up for dinner besides the old man you’ve successfully bagged for the night. He firmly shakes his head no and simply says, “At least not in my recollection.”

River willfully nods, walking Mat right into the trap. “Well have you been seeing anyone lately?” he asks again, this time slipping a hint of assertion. He hears a crystal clear ‘no’ from the forward and that’s when he broke a goading grin.

“And you’re telling me you two aren’t together?” he asks yet again, getting on Mat's nerves as he continues to flood him with biting queries, building up the final point he was about to break on Mathew.

“Rivs, for the hundredth time, no. We are not.” he clarifies.

Mat watches River pour himself a glass of scotch, still wearing a smug grin. “Imma give you a piece of advice, yeah?” he smiles rather teasingly and doesn’t wait for Mat to rebut, “I’m a happily married man so I don’t know a single squat about dating nowadays, but if you’re telling me that you kids aren’t sleeping with anyone else but yourselves? Looks like a damn relationship to me.”

With his brows all quirked in confusion (and denial in the very least), Mathew gathers all his might just so he could refute whatever madness River was trying to inflict on him and screw him up in the head. But before he could even open his mouth, the sound of the heavy doors was all it took to tear up both River’s and Mat’s attention.

“Hi.” you say the moment you were welcomed by unsuspecting men talking by the bar. River acknowledges you by raising his drink, his gaze landing on Mat the moment yours did.

“Hi.” Mathew mirrors you in an attempt to drown his already racing heart. A smile impending to break loose at any moment but he manages to suppress it. Instead of dealing with his adrenaline, he gestures for you to take a seat beside him.

“Where’s the sugar daddy?” he laughs the moment you drag yourself from across the room, mocking every word he said.

“His wife called when I got into his car.” you cringe.

“Oof. Lovely.” Mat makes the distinct expression on his face just before the two of you share a laugh.

“He’s not very smooth with adultery. He needs more practice.” you casually state sarcastically, clicking your tongue.

As you find the narrative funny, you take a sip on Mathew’s beer. “How are you not drunk? You’ve been drinking way too much the entire night.”

“Well. I’ve got some things to think about—” he cuts himself off upon seeing your mouth ajar, “And no, you’re not allowed to ask because none of it concerns you.”

“I wasn’t going to.” you dismiss him, excusing yourself to River which he gladly took as his cue to leave.

When he disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your gaze on your friend wearing another one of your mischievous grins, “Hey, wanna get pancakes?”

“Y/N, it’s almost 3 AM.” Mat sighs, the tiring night starting to creep up to him.

“So?” you question, swatting his hand away when you catch him checking on his watch.

“Come on. Stop drinking that.” you insist and take the bottle from his hand before putting it over to the side.

The two of you said your goodbyes to the lone bartender who was just starting to clean up again. River gives the two of you a nod of acknowledgement before landing a knowing look on Mathew. One that he’s thankful enough not to be discerned by you.

As you walk alongside Mathew, he unconsciously places a hand on the small of your back— feeling it graze on the fabric of your coat as if to guide you towards the door in an almost romantic type of way. Perhaps, a way someone would behave if they were actually in a relationship.

Mat notices your body tense but he doesn’t move an inch. Instead, his hand travels to the curve of your waist just as he leads you through the brass doors.

Once you’re out on the streets, he lets go.

𖥸

After almost half an hour of fighting over which diner is better to eat and get sober at, you and Mat decide to just try the new diner three blocks from your apartment. Being that it was an ungodly hour, the diner was good as closed when you got in. There were a few people inside and besides the student studying alone in the corner booth, the people lounging in the vacant seats were mostly just staff. Too bad they had to work the grave shift.

Mathew, who was rather preoccupied digging in his breakfast platter, gets interrupted when you call his attention.

“So tell me,” you ask as you take a forkful of syrupy pancake into your mouth. Finally satisfying your cravings. You put the food modestly in the insides of your cheeks when you ask him a question, “What are you like on dates?”

Mat disgustingly looks at you. You easily get what such a look meant and you immediately roll your eyes. You let your hand fall in mid-air amidst still holding a fork in it to prove a point. “I’m not trying to ask you out, dumbass. Don’t be so delusional.”

He puts his silverware down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just curious.” you simply say.

He hums, thinking about how he pulls off a first date. He then clears his throat as he takes you down that road. “First, I’m not bringing her to a 24/7 Diner.” you nearly gag. “She deserves a formal one just in case there won’t be a second date.” he explains.

You sit there, nodding your head every now and then as he further goes on the details of how he’s like on a date. “Of course, I’d put my best foot forward all the time. Talk about her stuff more than mine and make sure she has a good time.”

“Have you ever had a bad first date?” you curiously ask. To which he only answers with a stubborn look on his face, the one only Mat Barzal could pull off. “What? me? I don’t do bad first dates.”

“Oh, fuck off.” you flick his forehead as you laugh. The sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, drowning all the existing noise inside the lone diner.

But as the laughter dies down, Mat catches your eyes as soon as it falls on his. And just like that, there it was again, the exact same glint it had back in the bar. This time, illuminated by the pink shaded light lining up the wall accents of the diner.

When he realizes that he’s been staring for too long, he settles on turning the tables on you.

“How about you?” he props in his seat, “What are you like on dates?”

“You know, apart from the fact that you’re obviously into old men.” he snickers and you throw a curly fry on his forehead.

“Excuse me, I don’t.” you say sticking up for yourself.

Mat takes the curly fry that has fallen on his plate and proceeds to eat it. “Sure you do.”

You roll your eyes, finding it hard to suppress the fact that you might actually do. “There’s a reason why women like old men, chico.”

He leans back and answers with a level headed and quite teasing reply, “And why’s that?”

“Because they’re men.” you look at him with a jerky grin as you continue, “And men, especially of River’s kind, definitely knows how to eat his french fry.”

Mat’s mouth falls wide in disbelief, appalled that you’ve actually found a way to pick up a stone and throw it straight to his face just to rub more salt on the fact that you had to teach a 23-year-old grown man how to eat cunt.

“You’re an ass.” he says, rolling his eyes. You let out a laugh and shake your head. You were proud of yourself, sure; but showing just that is far too much for a boy’s already hurting ego. Who would have known humbling this man was such a task.

“I’m playing! You know how to now.” you tell him, “Thanks to me, of course.”

He scoffs and takes a bite off his pancakes, “Cocky.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.” he reminds you whilst he wipes off his lips with a napkin.

“There’s not much to tell. You know I’m not high maintenance.” you tell him, ignoring the fact that you haven’t been on an actual date for so long you’re almost sure you’ve forgotten how to be in one.

“I know it’s cheesy and corny but I do think it’s still in the littlest things, you know?” you sigh. Trying to remember the last relationship (date even) you had wherein those little things, the ones that are merely the bare minimum, were actually given to you.

“You know, it’s not much, really. Maybe just a good talk without having to watch him watch me talk all night when he’s really thinking about how I’d look naked, you know what I mean?” you laugh it off, “I know, it’s stupid.”

The arrogant man sitting before you was silent for once, profusely wanting to wash the pool of melancholy he sees in your eyes. There must have been a shit ton of guys who overlooked how great of a woman you actually are just because they couldn’t stop thinking with the head in between their legs even just for a second.

Mathew knows. And he hates that he’s been ‘that’ guy at some point. Probably until now considering him thinking with his balls on was the very thing that got the two of you here in the first place.

You take a deep breath, smiling. “Anyway, that’s better than almost getting with a married man. Right?”

“Right.” Mat laughs, his gray eyes bright under all the lights as he plays with his silverware,— devoid of how much he looked like as if he was utterly and undeniably in awe of not just the energy of the woman sitting in front of him alone nor the fact that she was by far the most unbelievable woman he’s known, but most importantly, he’s yet to realize how much in deep he’s beginning to be for the woman she actually were.

Just as she is.

𖥸

You left the diner a good hour before the sunrise and what must have been a quick five minute drive if you had only taken a cab, became a twenty minute foot race between you and Mathew.

You knew that walking was a bad idea but somehow, Mat’s charm and persuasive antics had a better hold than you thought you had on your very capable cognition.

As you drag your feet into the confines of the elevator in your complex, you hear Mathew chuckling behind you with a firm hand securely placed on your waist supporting your balance.

“You know— and not just ‘cause I’m an athlete, can I just say that you’re in a very bad shape?” he says almost a whisper in your ear, his voice low and deep.

You roll your eyes, leaning on the steel cold mirror once he pulls away, “You do it in heels then tell me who’s in a bad shape.”

“Fair point.” he chuckles yet again, shying away. He presses the number for your floor before resting across from you. As Mat watches you catch your breath, he jokes in the hopes of breaking the ice between the two of you.

“So…” he clicks his tongue, playful eyes looking at you, “Wanna tap?”

Disgusted to your very core, you let out a scoff just as you shake your head. “You’re fucking sick.” you laugh upon meeting his dumb grinning face. Seconds into laughter, Mat’s silence kills off the humor. The two of you exchange glances, the smiles on your faces receding into quietude.

Mathew didn’t want to end the night letting you in the apartment not knowing what he’s been feeling the moment you’ve let him drag you out for an impromptu night out. And stupid as it was, the only thing he could think of was to slide his foot across the enclosed space embracing the two of you, nudging on your boot. You on the one hand were rather puzzled as to what caused such language. You send him a mental query by arching a brow. He lets his head fall back on the cold metal surrounding the elevator finally deciding to speak his truth.

“I’m glad we get to hang out now. You know, just like friends do.” he genuinely says.

“Me too.” you say, smiling. “I really had fun tonight. Thank you.”

As you meet his eyes, you see a glimmer of softness in his gaze.

“Good thing I got bored, eh?” he says with a smirk.

“Good thing I came back for you.” you reply.

A quiet smile parts from his lips.

“Yeah. I’m glad you did.”

It was a few seconds when you and Barzy parted from your respective walls to meet the sliding doors as it opened on your designated floor. You were pulling him closer by the tie of his coat whilst his hand was instinctively placed on your hips letting him press his body on you. Your faces were inches from each other’s, evident of not wanting to prolong the totally unplanned foreplay that’s about to go down in a communal lift.

But just like every film you’ve watched your whole life, the inevitable cliché befalls the two of you when the next words that filled the enclosed walls you’re currently caged in came from the man who has yet to miss a morning jog.

“What the hell is going on here?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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hcneymilkks · 3 years

Text

Month

A fake dating au but make it marriage. Two best friends scroll on social media and notice a trend where newlyweds send invites to famous celebrities to see what will happen? An appearance? A gift? Who knows. For the two best friends, as a joke, set up a fake wedding and request the most expensive gifts with the option of money. Sending invites to celebrities ranging from Kim Kardashian to even the Queen, they are surprised and shocked to realize that not only were gifts being delivered nearing the “big day” but a request to be part of the celebration causes the two friends to create a fake marriage in the smallest amount of time they have.

University AU! Aged-up Haikyuu Characters!

Fashion Designer/Psychologist Oikawa

Humanities Y/N

Rain splattered on the window, causing little droplets here and there to roll down with no hesitation. The quiet hums of lo-fi music made its way around the little bedroom, with vigorous typing accompanying it.

Backspace.

Enter.

Click and delete.

Brain throbbing, a sigh escaping from the lips.

It was no use, the longer the computer was stared at, the more your brain felt like mush.

“Damn him and using me to do his research analysis.”

Speak of the devil.

“Y/n!”

You stood up, turning around and crossing your arms with a glare. There he stood, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.

Tooru Oikawa.

“How’s the report going? I hope to see it done by tomorrow?”

“Fuck you,” you strided over and pushed his arms, causing him to slightly lose balance. “Just tell me how you managed not getting kicked out yet. I swear you casted a spell on your professors or something. It's like you don’t do anything.”

He feigned hurt. “I do!” He whined. “Just not class related.” He pushed past you and flung yourself onto the bed, burying his face into your freshly washed sheets. “I’m designing a new clothing line inspired by the different volleyball team colours.”

“Is this your way at relieving the pain from not making it to nationals?” you snickered, remembering how pissed off he was after Ushijima told him he should have gone to Shiratorizawa.

“I-you little shit. This is why I never tell you things.”

“Shut up shittykawa you literally are making me do your research proposal. I know nothing about psychology!”

“I’m helping you learn a new subject! It’s time to look into your own brain and see what’s wrong with you!”

…

Three.

Two.

One.

“OIKAWA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you flung yourself on top of him, garnering an oomph! sound. You smacked his back repeatedly.

He let it have your way, already coming up with a counterattack.

With stinging hands and shallow breaths after saying nothing but curses, you stopped and climbed off of him. Immediately, he’s on top of you. Pinning your wrists and getting dangerously closer to your neck. You couldn’t lie, he was attractive, but knowing him and his two-faced personality, you’d rather stay friends.

But did you really want to?

A part of him knew you wanted him, but was that a risk you were willing to take?

Deep breaths.

A low chuckle. “You love me y/n. I know you do, and I also know you’d do anything for me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss oh so close to your lips, getting up and dusting off his black shirt.

“I’m leaving! Remember, the paper has to be done by tomorrow!”

The door closed and for a moment you looked at your ceiling.

Eyes wide.

Taking a pillow, you screamed into it.

“SHITTYKAWA!”

“Here you hoe, now for once in your life do your own work.”

You stomped into one of the many University studios, aiming the folder at Oikawa’s head much to his dismay.

“Thank you love you!”

You glared at him and waved a hand. “You definitely owe me like five bowls of ramen after what you put me through. I can’t believe you made me read so much on children’s brains and development.”

“I mean they said to choose something I liked, so children and volleyball worked together. Plus, if I actually had to conduct the research, my nephew’s volleyball club would have been perfect.” He finally turned around after pinning the teal fabric to the mannequin, striding towards you and ruffling your hair.

You mumbled incoherent curses as Oikawa picked up his sketchbook, writing down a quick note before closing it.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

The fragrant air of spices and creamy broth filled the little shop, making you drool. Grateful that Oikawa was rich, you took the opportunity to order almost everything on the menu.

“Y/n isn’t that-” you growled at him and he smirked.

“Feisty, you know I love that.” he winked and you gagged.

While waiting for the food, both of you were scrolling on Instagram. Having most of the same friends, it was no surprise that your timelines almost looked identical. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa saw a group photo of most of the volleyball players Hinata was pictured with, wanting nothing more than to squish the little one.

But then something caught your eyes.

You looked up at Oikawa who seemingly had the same expression, eyes wide, yet confused.

The dead groupchat came back to life with a link sent by Matsukawa, something about a bet.

matthewkawa

Look at this lol

Sent a link

[Youtube storytime: The Time I Invited Drake to My Wedding (Spoiler Alert: He Came!)]

hannamaki

Wait why would someone invite a celebrity? Aren’t they hard to ask?

nishinoyya

Wait that’s cool! Asahi-san can we invite Jason Derulo to our wedding?

acai

Wait...what? What wedding?

y/n

Waittt i’ve seen that video

Apparently as a joke the person sent lots of invites to different celebrities. Most of them gave gifts or money but I guess Drake went

iwachew

LOOL IMAGINE Y/N AND CRAPPYKAWA DOING THAT

yoyoinata

I can see that woah!

milkyama

Psh! Flattykawa and y/n. I can’t see it. y/n deserves better lol

fabkawa

OI TAKE THAT BACK STUPID

y/n

Oi don’t talk back to my child like that shittykawa

fabkawa

Shut up y/n and eat your ramen

You glared at him before saying thank you to the waiter. Both minds now occupied with the creamy ramen and soft boiled egg.

Flipping a page, you smiled. There it was, the fake couple who both fell for each other, breaking so many rules. But who couldn’t resist?

Oikawa scrolled on the computer, typing and clicking. He swiveled around in his seat and went over to you, peering over your shoulder.

You smacked his arm. “Personal space excuse me!” He put his arm up in defence, smirking.

“Remember the post Matsukawa sent?

“Yeah. So what?”

“I made the wedding on May 14th and invited some celebrities. Who did you want to send an invite to?”

You dropped the book. “Say what?”

Oikawa dragged you from his bed and sat you down on his uncomfy chair. Indeed, the computer screen showed a cheesy website where people rsvp to weddings. Already half of the groupchat accepted and you know this had to be a joke.

“Oikawa are you dumb? Who are you marrying? Wait no, who would want to marry you?” you looked at him and he pouted.

“Iwa-chan said no, Mad Dog scares me, Ushijima is definitely a no, so you’re left.”

“Who said I would do it?”

“I invited Stray Kids.”

Are you kidding me?

“This isn’t real, we’re not gonna really get married right? I mean if we were technically speaking, the wedding is less than a month away and we don’t have money, a reception place or any other sappy wedding shit.” You looked at the list and sure enough, Stray Kids was there.

“No y/n nothing is going to happen trust me. Plus, who doesn’t like free gifts? I tried to ask for expensive gifts and money because someone’s wardrobe and apartment looks ugly as hell.”

“You better not be talking about me bitch. I’m gonna set that sketchbook on fire.”

Oikawa chuckled. “Add some more people on the list, I wanna see how far this can get.”

“I never said I agreed to it,” you mumbled but nonetheless added in a few of your favourite celebrities, including the queen.

After all, if this worked, free money. What’s the harm in that?”

A lot went wrong after that.

It was three am a week after the planning and your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Grumbling, you answered the call without looking at the number…..which was a stupid mistake.

“Y/N! HOW DO I CANCEL THE WEDDING?!”

“Relax Papi you said nothing would happen? Free money right?” you yawned not even realizing what you said.

Oikawa sputtered on the other line, shaking his head and ignoring how you called him Papi for some reason. “Yeah but uh...we have a little problem.”

“Hm…”

“Jason Derulo accepted the invite ...and he can’t wait to see the ceremony.”

From that moment, you were fully awake. “WHAT?!!”

“What do you mean you can’t cancel the wedding?” you rubbed at your temples, losing more brain cells by the minute.

"Okay so apparently my last name is common around celebrities, seeing as my father owns different restaurants. So it’s not a surprise to them that they wouldn’t attend the wedding.’

“Fuck.” you breathed out. How did the both of you not realize this?

“Okay so um..what now?”

Oikawa ruffled his air. “We go through with it.”

"Fuck no.”

“What why?”

You’re the one who thought of this crazy idea! It’s all your fault!”

“But you’re the one who put Jason Derulo in there!��’

You smacked your forehead. “It was a joke and for free money! Look what you got us into.”

Yells back and forth, each blaming the other. It was like the night wasn’t going to end soon. Tired from the arguing, you smacked Oikawa’s chest. “Stupid,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to do this!”

Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “But what if I want to?” You looked up at him confused. “You know, like how Hinata and Tobio fake dated but then became boyfriends.”

“Oikawa, that’s different. That’s dating, this is marriage. It’s adult stuff, I can barely cook!”

“I’ll cook for you.”

You walked away from him, going towards his balcony. The view was beautiful, seeing various stars and the lights shining from Tokyo. “This is too much for me to handle. You're a pain, you know that?”

He wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you snuggled closer to his chest, facing the view so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

"Remember when we were children? And we had a whole promise that we would be with each other forever?” you laughed. The classic child marriage pact. It was as if almost all friendships started with that promise. A promise to love and stay with each other no matter what.

“That’s child play.”

He started to rub circles with his thumbs on your arms, you feeling relaxed. “One month. Give me one month after the wedding. We’ll go on a honeymoon to London, I'll teach you how to cook, you can live with me, we can adopt a puppy.” Oikawa gulped and looked at you. “And if you don’t like it, we can pretend none of this happened. In fact i’ll stop bothering you with my assignments and my presence.”

One month. That sounded like a challenge. A challenge that Oikawa was willing to risk everything for. A month to make you fall for him.

“...so we’re splitting the gifts and money equally then, right?”

A/N: I’m back! This has been in my drafts for months. At first it was supposed to be Yuto from Pentagon but after getting into Haikyuu I was like fuck it and changed it to Oikawa. Also because yes LMAO. I hope you all liked it and let me know your comments! Part two will be in the works if people want it, for now its a oneshot aha.

Much love!

tags: @babyworld , @bakuhoes-dumbass

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Winner’s Choice

A/N: I only have series-type ideas in mind, so I’m trying to write out short one-shot type fics instead just to pump the breaks a little. Any ideas are welcome but here’s my go at this: you lost a drinking contest to Harry and winner decides a tattoo for the loser...

--------------

"3...2...1...GO!"

I lift the mug to my face and down the beer, ignoring how it splashes over the new top I had worn today. I should've know going out with Harry & Co meant I was getting messy.

Just a second apart, I slam my mug down.

"That was Harry!" The crowd shouts. "Harry's won!"

"It was tied!" I try to shout, ignoring Harry's smug face as his ego rises with the crowd's voice.

"I say rematch!" I shout.

"Don't be a sore loser, love!" Harry shouts at me. I stick my tongue out and hold my empty mug up, declaring louder I wanted a rematch. My swimming head tries to reason with me that it may not be a good idea but I needed to redeem myself.

Harry and I were good friends, I worked as an actor in the industry he dabbled in. And when he laughed at a stupid joke I made one day a few years ago, I'd latched onto him and we'd just become part of each other's lives since.

I moved across the pond from my childhood town in Maine when I turned 21 for an acting job, and have stayed since flitting from role to role. I missed my family and friends but moving here was also the best thing I did for myself. It did get lonely...which was why meeting Harry was also one of the best things to happen to me. Over the first year of knowing him, his friends became my friends and vice versa. I called them all Harry& Co. especially when I was drunk, all their faces blurred into each other and there were too many of them. Except for Harry. His face always stood out from a crowd. Being around him usually cured the ache I had for home.

"If I go again, you've got to put something on the table." Harry finally agrees. The crowd shouts out inappropriate things I could put down and I flip them off. I catch my friend's eye and she gives me a cautious look but I shake my head. I was having fun tonight.

"Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choice. Tonight." Harry announces and the group goes crazier. My own mouth drops. I had to win this, knowing Harry he would do something ridiculous like his face on my ass. And this was the first time I lost to Harry, I could do this.

"Deal," I shake on it.

"Wait!" My friend tries to reason with us but we pull our mugs supplied by the crowd, closer to us.

"3...2...1...Go!"

I black out downing it but somehow, Harry's mug clashes down millisecond before mine does. A silence descends the room before Harry laughs. And suddenly everyone is shouting, cheering, throwing out tattoo ideas, and one voice is just shouting long live Harry over and over.

"I...." my mouth doesn't close on it's own, I lost. I rarely lost a drinking contest. But...Harry had me beat.

"Fair and square," Harry maneuvers around the table to sit beside me.

"I lost." I say, dumbstruck.

"It happens to the best of us, eventually." Harry kisses my cheek before jumping up and taking my hand. "Celebration dance."

I let him drag me to the dancefloor, trying to bring my mind back to reality. I was going to get a tattoo. My first. "Harry-Harry!" I try to get his attention. "Nothing ridiculous?"

"No promises," he winks. The alcohol sloshes in my brain as he pulls me into him and moves from side to side.

"Harry!" I shout out.

"You'll see," he grins, enjoying my torture way too much. "Just dance now."

His voice in my ear tickles, and I feel fluttery, far away. Some part of me knows that sober me was going to be pissed at drunk me.

I dance with Harry, following his lead, eventually drifting off to my friends, some strangers, and back to him.

"Should we get that tattoo now?" Harry says in my ear then.

"Maybe..." I try to put on my best convincing voice on. "We should wait for tomorrow."

"Nope!" Harry shouts gleefully. "Let's go now!"

"Nothing's open!" I shout but I was lying and he doesn't believe me for a second. I sigh, and find my friends to say goodbye. They try to tell me I didn't have to follow through but I know Harry would get this done one way or another. I may as well get it done while I was drunk and blame it on that.

The cold outside reminds me I left my coat inside, and when I come back out Harry's jumping up and down to keep warm. It makes me laugh but he quickly tugs on my arm. We run to stay warm towards wherever he decided this was going to happen.

It's a few blocks away, a sterile looking place with crazy colours on the walls that I realise are tattoo designs. The warmth inside the studio makes me shiver and Harry wraps his arm around me as we walk through.

"Harry nothing unprofessional please? I don't want to get fired from a job I don't even have." The cold air had sobered me up a bit and I was starting to regret this even more.

"Don't you trust me?" He asks with a glint to his eye that I didn't trust. "Wait here."

I sit down while he goes to talk to the artist, showing her his phone, pointing to various parts of his body.

"Y/N! Come on!"

I drag my feet over and glare at him as I settle in.

"You'll have to take your shirt off," Harry lets me know.

"You're picking where I get it too?" I ask.

"That's part of the deal!"

"I should've read the fine print," I grumble. Harry shows the artist the side of my rib cage-my shirt was still on but his finger traces a small curve up and down where he wants to place it. It sends butterflies to my stomach.

"Okay," I grab his hand so he could stop doing that. It wasn't helping my nerves. "Let's get this over with. But you can't stay."

"Yes I can," Harry insists. "I make up the rules."

"If I have to take my shirt off, he goes." I look at the girl giving me my tattoo and she shrugs, looking over at Harry. He sighs but agrees.

I take my shirt off and have to hike my bra strap higher, ready to settle into the torture.

"Please tell me it's nothing crude? His face included? Or a stupid message like Y/N hearts Harry?"

The artist laughs, "I'm not allowed to tell you anything apparently but from one girlfriend with a crazy boyfriend to another. It's not. Don't worry, just relax."

I try to tell her Harry wasn't my boyfriend but she turns away and I decide it wasn't worth it. I'd explained that a million times to my own mom who always asked if we'd gotten together yet. It was embarassing, my family back home was convinced we were having a secret affair. I stopped wasting my breath nowadays.

"So, do you get this kind of request often?" I try to make small talk.

"More than you think," the cold of whatever she spreads on my skin makes me shiver. I sort of wish Harry was here, to keep me distracted. I pull my phone out and text him.

"I'm back," his head pops in a few minutes later. The tattoo artist looks to me to make sure I was okay.

"Just talk your usual shit so I don't have to think about what I agreed to," I call out. He sits beside me but he falls silent. When I lift my head to look at him, he's staring at me. "Hey!"

"Sorry, I was thinking about the other tattoos I'm going to beat you into getting."

I roll my eyes, but my skin warms under his gaze. "I'm never agreeing to something like this ever again. You got me while I was weak."

"I'll convince you to get another tattoo again," Harry rolls closer to me. He rests his arms on my leg and leans his head on it.

"My leg's going to fall asleep," I warn him.

"Then we'll put another tattoo there," he smiles.

And back and forth we go, he keeps me distracted, and for the most part, the tattoo process is okay. I'm barely listening as she begins to tell me about its aftercare, she'd already said she would give me a pamphlet and Harry had plenty experience, I could ask him.

"Do you want to see it before I wrap it up?" She asks me. From what I felt, it was at least a few inches long and a bigger tattoo was too scary for me to think about.

"I need something to drink before I look at it," I say. "But I know if I don't like it it's his fault not yours."

"You'll love it," Harry pulls me to him and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. I push him away aggressively and agree to be bandaged. I tell Harry he owed me a few beers before I looked at it and he agrees. He purchases some on our way back to my place along with some food. The train ride home is mostly filled with him gloating but I suffer through it, imaging the worst case scenarios.

Back at my place, I stand in front of the full length mirror in my room, deathly afraid. I had waited nervously, threw back a couple of beers and shoved excessive pizza in my mouth. Harry seems more excited than me for the reveal and finally he joins me upstairs.

"So?" He asks, eyes on me in the mirror.

"Fine." I decide. I peel my shirt off slowly and Harry helps, I try to ignore the way my knees turn into jello at the sight of him doing that. "Fine."

My bra is crooked and I act as casual as possible that Harry is still standing behind me. I slowly peel the bandaging off, Harry comes around to help. I close my eyes as he finishes and count to three in my head. When I see it, my heart stops.

"Do you like it?" Harry asks like a kid on Christmas morning. He's buzzing with nervous excitement but all I can do is stare at the simple tattoo as my heart swells.

A few inches big, covering the side of my ribcage, is a twig of wild blueberries: a symbol of home.

"How did you..." I'm at a loss for words. My first tattoo. I just got my first tattoo, and it was...perfect.

"Well, you're always taking about how you miss home. And you rarely get to go back because of your schedule. And I looked up the official things for Maine, didn't think you wanted a moose so I-"

I shut him up by kissing him; that was the only possible response to this. He'd tricked me into getting the most perfect tattoo and if I was ever unsure before I was sure now that I loved Harry Styles. He knew me. His choice of tattoo made that clear. And I loved him.

"Woah," Harry steadies my shoulders when we part.

"It's perfect," I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what else to say."

"I should've got you a tattoo a long time ago," he says before kissing me again. I could do this forever, I think, as I bury my hands in his hair.

His hand brushes the open tattoo and I flinch. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly sore.

"Sorry," he apologises against my lips. "We should probably take care of that."

"Ugh, wait." I kiss him one last time. "Where's that info sheet-"

"It's okay, c'mon." He leads me into the bathroom and sits me down on the countertop. I watch as he carefully washes his hands and washes the area. He knows where everything is. His face is scrunched in concetration as he washes and dries it. I marvel at how the evening started with his chaotic public personality to this gentle version here.

"This is gonna be cold," he warns before applying jelly over the whole thing. "Don't sleep on this side."

"I won't. I don't really plan on sleeping at all," I grab his shirt and pull him back up to me. I feel him smile as I kiss him, and he pushes me as far back as I can go before I hit the mirror behind me. I can tell he wanted this as bad as I did, and if it weren't for the tattoo we would be a roughened jumble on my bed right now.

"Bad night for a tattoo," he rests his forehead on mine.

"A tattoo can't stop me," I say. "Let's go." I lead him back to my bed and unclasp my bra. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this anyway."

"Fuck," Harry's mouth hangs open but before I can grow self conscious, he strides over and crashes into me. He doesn't bother with holding back, although he avoids my right side. But it doesn't even matter as I simultaneously forget every sense I have and feel every single nerve in my body at the same time as he takes me to bed.

After, when we lay facing each other on the bed, Harry uses his finger to trace my face. When he reaches my mouth, I kiss his finger. "Thanks. Tonight was...great."

"If you think tonight was great, wait until your tattoo heals." He swipes down my nose.

"I was only talking about the tattoo," I tease. "The rest of the night was...okay."

"Okay?" He immediately perches up.

"Yeah. Like...a 6 out of 10?"

He turns on his back and laughs, "You're in so much trouble. You better watch what you say next!"

"I'm not afraid of you--you had your chance with the tattoo and you chose something lovely."

He turns back to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You have to trust me."

"I do...usually." I smile. Harry rests his hand on my hip and zones out, his mind elsewhere. The silence stretched out and I can't help but ask.

"So...tonight isn't like, a one time thing right?" I was going to wait to ask but my nerves needed to be soothed. I also didn't want things between Harry and I to be in a gray area. He meant too much to me.

"No, unless...you want it to be?"

"No!" I nearly shout. "Only the tattoo part. Everything else, I'd like again."

"Okay, good." He slides closer to me under the duvet. "Because I wouldn't mind putting a label on this and-"

"Done." I say, not caring how eager I sounded because the grin that splits his face shows the same eagerness.

I mentally apologise to all the people I scolded who asked when Harry and I would get together. As I nuzzle my head into his chest, and he drapes his arm around me, I just think about how right it feels and why I didn't do it sooner. Tonight was a crazy night of bad decisions but every single outcome was perfect.

"I love you Y/N," Harry says after a while, I thought he'd already fallen asleep. I peek out from my position and his eyes are closed. I wait a moment but they remain closed.

I snuggle back in and suppress the urge to squeal. This night felt too good to be real, like I would wake up tomorrow morning and realise it was all a drunk-hallucination. And on the off chance that might be true, I wrap myself tighter against him and whisper the words back, hoping that he was awake enough to hear them.

When his arms tighten around me, I fall asleep happy, knowing he knows too. Maybe tomorrow morning, I would say it again.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #writingsfromhome #fic #one shot #idk

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kilgarraghforever · 3 years

Text

So The Son Of Bigfoot is this film from 2017 and it's completely nutty.

The opening scene is this science man getting chased through a forest by a load of helicopters, men with dogs and a pointy-faced dude with very blonde hair. The lot of them have stupid hairstyles. Science Man climbs a cliff, is cornered by the helicopters and then jumps off a waterfall. End scene, cut to title, then the main stuff starts. (I think I'm going to explain the entire film, so anyone who wants to watch it (and I heartily recommend you do so) leave now.)

The main plot is about this kid who gets bullied by three morons with stupid haircuts. Here they are:

(Sunglasses has this silly little goatee thing at the back of his head)

The three morons stick a load of gum in his hair, so his mum has to chop it all off. Next day, it's all grown back, and kid freaks and tries to chop it off himself - which goes badly. He finds his dead dad's old hat in a draw to hide it, goes to school and basically has a weird thing where his hearing suddenly increases and so does his shoe size. The kid's feat literally bust out of his shoes. Kid ends up in the PE hall to escape the noise and surprise! the three bullies turn up, he accidently punches one in the face and so they beat him up, steal his backpack and throw it in a basketball hoop. The lot of them get called to the headmaster's office to be punished (suspension), in which the kid - Adam - meets some blonde girl who flirts with him, gets his bag back and is told to remove the hat, revealing that his hair has grown back completely. Before he has time to contemplate this, the bullies turn up again, chase him home and throw a rock through his window. Rock hits a vent, breaks it and hits something metal, so Adam sticks his arm down and finds a tin full of letters from his dead dad and an address carved on bark. He reads the letters and his mum gets home, he accuses her of keeping his dad's living-ness a secret. Yelling ensues, Adam runs away, y'know - the usual.

Meanwhile, this massive hair company (Hair Co) are trying to make some serum to make hair grow. It's run by the pale dude from before, who never gets named, so I'll refer to him as Asshole. Asshole is showing these three dudes around and nattering, and then they get to this science lab. A short old science man shoots an intern in the ass with a dart thing that causes him to grow an afro. The afro then promptly bursts into flames.

We return to Adam, next to a highway trying to hitchhike in the pouring rain. Truck driver stops and Adam guilts him into taking him to the address on that bit of bark. Turns out it's literally just a post box in a woods next to the road. Adam gets out, truck drives off leaving Adam alone and so he ventures into the unknown. He wanders around for a bit looking for a house or something, yelling "Hello?" into the void. He climbs a small cliff, yells again and hears something behind him. Sees some bushes moving, so he throws a rock at them. The bushes go "ow" so he runs off and right into a bear trap. He falls, skidding the rest of the way down to the road. During said skid, his backpack falls off. This is important. Adam gets knocked out by the impact and is left sprawled in the middle of the road. Some trucker - I'm going to call him Carl - is driving down it, reading a magazine and singing something. He sees Adam at the last minute, slamming on the breaks. He's clearly going to hit Adam, but before he can, this blurry humanoid figure runs out into the road, scoops up Adam and runs off again. Carl is very confused, so plays it back on his dashboard camera. He goes "Well, I'll be" and reaches for his phone. It has no service. Carl ends up at a diner with a phone box, calls 911 and reports that he saw Bigfoot. 911 hangs up on him. Carl then proceeds to call the magazine he was reading and gets told that his sighting will get published.

Back at Hair Co, Asshole sees the report and smirks at the short science man, whom I'll be calling Billingsley, as that is his name. Billingsley wants to go after Bigfoot but Asshole says that they gave up the search ten years ago, leading to the question: 'What the fuck, Hair Co?' They eventually decide to go after Bigfoot again after seeing Adam in the photo.

Carl, back at the diner, is talking to the serving lady who I've named Sugar. They talk about the Bigfoot sighting, and then a load of black cars and a freaking helicopter turn up. Sugar shouts for someone to raise the prices.

Turns out all the men in black people are Hair Co looking for Bigfoot - and Asshole is with them. Carl explains about where he saw Bigfoot and an agent finds Adam's backpack (I said it was important) and his address in it. Asshole smirks again.

Two of the Agents of Hair turn up at Adam's address, break in and find the letters. Meanwhile, Shelly - the mum - is driving to the address on the bark in search of Adam.

This is where it gets a little nuts. Adam wakes up in some tree next with Bigfoot - inexplicably in a pair of jeans that look far too small for him because of all the fur - is standing over him. Adam understandably freaks out and tries to leave, only to nearly die from falling. Bigfoot grabs him before he does and explains that he is Adam's dad. His not dead, very much alive, rather furry and never named dad. (For that reason I'm going to keep calling him Bigfoot.) Adam calls bullshit and threatens him with a twig, then sees that the middle of the treehouse is decorated in photos of him and his mum. This somehow proves to Adam that Bigfoot is his dad, and I'm sure you guessed from the title. He then freaks out again, calling his dad a monster and Bigfoot makes the most funny offended face in animated history.

He then accuses Bigfoot of running away, to which Bigfoot responds with "Woah." He then explains that someone *cough* Hair Co *cough* *cough* were hunting him and he had to leave to keep Adam and Shelly safe. Adam then asks him what he meant by 'lab rat', making Bigfoot change the subject to Shelly and whether she knows Adam is here. Adam lies, his dad catches it, and they argue for a bit before Bigfoot says "Your mum must be worried sick."

Cut to Shelly driving up to a blockade set up by the Agents of Hair. They say they're looking for her, and she tries to escape but the Agents of Hair stop her.

Back at the treehouse, apparently Bigfoot and Adam have stopped arguing and Bigfoot is going on about being sorry he missed Adam's childhood and how Shelly sent everything to him. Adam then asks if he's going to have Bigfoot stuff happen to him - mostly refuring to the fur (I'm not sorry for the pun) - and Bigfoot says no. He then explains that he's already thirteen and hasn't shown any signs of being a bigfoot. Adam says "Yes I have. My feet went weird and so did my hearing." They eventually work out that Adam got all of the cool stuff about being a bigfoot and none of the fur. Cool stuff? I hear you and Adam ask. Turns out bigfoots (bigfeet?) have healing powers (which is how Adam is walking on a leg that got caught in a beartrap), run really fast, hear super well (like things around a mile away) and can talk to animals. They then zipline down to the ground, do some weird surfing thing and fall over. During the next 20 minutes, we meet two racoons, a squirrel and a woodpecker. Oh, yeah, and a giant bear. There's some nonsense with two idiotic hunters, baseball, some geysers and then they end up back at the treehouse. This sickeningly sweet bonding shit is interrupted by the raccoons who report that the Agents of Hair are scouring the forest looking for Bigfoot. Bigfoot blames Adam, which is fair but also really not, who then decides to give himself up to Asshole and the Agents of Hair. They take him to his mum and he tricks them into climbing into a geyser. This pisses of Asshole who, in a plot to lure out Bigfoot, traps Adam in a car and sends him into a forest fire the Agents of Hair started. When Bigfoot shows up to try and save Adam, he gets Adam out of the car but is shot by Asshole with a stun dart. The massive bear whose name is Wilbur saves Adam but a burning branch gets in the way of him going back for Bigfoot, who is captured by Asshole. Adam then blacks out from smoke inhalation. When he comes to, Wilbur and the other animals decide to leave, but Adam convinces them to help him save Bigfoot in a Mission Impossible style heist.

Back at Hair Co, Billingsley has almost perfected a hair formula and shoots the intern again, causing all his hair to grow prolifically. Asshole is pleased by this.

While that's happening, Adam and the rest break into Hair Co's nearest facility, and during the commotion, all of them but Adam get captured. Adam makes it to his dad, who then refuses to leave in a plot twist everyone saw coming, aside from Adam who is confused. Asshole has apparently promised to care for Shelly and Adam and not kill them in exchange for Bigfoot allowing them to run experiments on him. Adam, who is not crazy and doesn't trust Asshole, tries to convince Bigfoot to leave but then Asshole himself turns up and takes Adam out of the lab. Asshole talks about how Adam is going to like being rich while Adam spots a fire alarm, breaks it and causes the only door in to seal itself with him on the inside. This greatly pisses off Asshole, who yells for security to open the door and that the fire is a false alarm. Security guy, who Adam and co knocked out earlier, comes to, hears fire and sounds the evacuation alarm. Asshole gets taken to the bridge, leaving only Adam inside.

Adam then steals an access card from a guard he knocked out, releases all the animals, including the ones used by Hair Co to test stuff on (who all leave the compound and follow the evacuating Agents of Hair), and cause chaos. During said chaos Adam gets a flare gun. He goes back to Bigfoot and this time succeeds in convincing him to leave, threatening to tell Asshole that he's a Bigfoot too. This sentiment is quite sweet as he says that "If you don't leave, then I'm staying. It's the two of us here or the two of us out there, but I'm not loosing you again." They leave and Bigfoot decides to go into a large production area and break all of the gas pipes, deciding that Hair Co is going to be put out of business, permanently. They break many gas lines, leading to the door to be sealed so no gas escapes. They escape through a vent and come out at the top of Hair Co, and zipline down to the bridge using the cables holding it up.

Asshole is there waiting for them. He has found out that Adam is also a bigfoot and shoots Bigfoot several times with stun darts then kicks him off the bridge. Adam, with the most 'fuck you' look, shoots the flare gun's flare into Hair Co, igniting the gas and exploding the building and making the bridge collapse.

Adam then runs to the end of the bridge and climbs down to try and find his dad. Asshole also falls off the bridge because of his own stupidity and the Agents of Hair being incompetent.

In the gorge below, Adam finds his dad badly injured and dying. He cries at first, hugging his dad and his hands glow with blue swirls of light that disappear as soon as he takes his hand away from Bigfoot's arm. He then remembers the healing powers his dad told him about, and uses them on his dad. The blue magic makes Bigfoot's body rise into the air as the healing powers try to heal him, then gently place him back on the ground after Adam is done.

Bigfoot doesn't move.

"No!" Adam cries out, sobbing again. Then Bigfoot moves and wakes up, they hug, the animals show up and it's all very sweet, blah blah blah.

And then along comes Asshole, looking rather deranged and pointing a stun gun at them. He starts monologuing about how "it did not have to end this way" and then is shot in the ass by Shelly. Bigfoot, Shelly and Adam decide on "no more hiding". Meanwhile, the male raccoon discovers that Asshole has been wearing a toupee the entire time.

It turns out that Billingsley and the intern survived.

A few weeks/months later (it's actually only about a week later) Bigfoot and the animals are living happily with Shelly and Adam, who is returning to school after his suspension.

On the way, the bullies return and try to beat up Adam, only to be scared by Wilbur the massive bear. They end up with broken bikes (curtesy of the raccoons) and bruises. The blonde girl from the office shows up at the end of the confrontation and asks to walk to school with Adam. She also asks what happened to his shoes, as his feet bust out when the bullies show up. He jokes that he should switch to sandals, and the film ends on them walking away with his shoes hanging from a telephone pole.

It's a wild ride and I'd honestly recommend it to anyone with an hour and a half to spare. Despite what it looks like, I didn't get in everything and the whole film is a lot funnier that I said here.

This film got an 8/10.

#son of bigfoot #movie review #movie recommendation #go watch this movie #seriously #spoilers #plot summary #this is the plot

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multifandomwriter56 · 4 years

Text

Filling in His Place

A/N: This was a request. Also it’s for @sdavid09 Tale Teller’s 2020 Bingo Challenge.

Square Filled: Follower Prompt

Request by anon: Hey hun! I was wondering if I could request a Shelby!reader where she is Finn’s twin but she is treated the same way as him and she gets in trouble???? Xxxx (I hope this meets your expectations, love)

Summary: Tommy’s done with his sister’s antics and Y/n’s done with pretending her brother will ever be the same.

Characters: Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, angst, spoilers for S4 and S5 (barely)

Word Count: 1,488

(Gif is by @el-cheung)

Y/n loves being a twin. Always having someone the same age as her growing up has made being a Shelby much easier. Finn and her have always been troublemakers; and as they get older, they got into even more trouble.

Tommy used to be able to control the twins, but since he started playing politician, the responsibility fell onto their aunt.

Y/n does feel guilty for stressing their aunt out as much as they do.

The last time they trashed the Garrison, Polly had decided enough was enough and split them up for the time being.

Y/n, unfortunately, drew the short straw so to speak and was sent to the Arrow House.

She had only been there five minutes when Tommy had call her into his office and gave her a lengthy lecture on acting like an adult.

She almost left right then, but she decided spending some time with her niece and nephew would be good. Besides Lizzie, the two children hardly ever saw family;especially Charlie. When her brother and Lizzie would fight, Lizzie would take her and Ruby to Arthur’s place; leaving Charlie behind.

***

One morning she decided she was done with staying in her brother’s mansion and decided to head back to Small Heath.

She stole Tommy's car and was planning on picking up her twin; but when she arrived, he was gone.

Apparently Finn was in London with Arthur for the day.

She thought about going back to the house, but she figured she might as well enjoy her freedom while she still can. She has a feeling, Tommy won't be so forgiving this time.

So she heads to the Garrison for a few drinks. Since John died, it seems like none of her family really goes to the pub anymore besides Finn. Even now, Y/n feels a sadness flow over her as she makes her way to the bar.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Harry, give me bottle of rum.”

“Sorry Y/n, I can’t. Tommy said-”

“Fuck my brother, give me the damn bottle or I’ll get two, and I’ll smash one over your fucking skull.”

Harry weighs in his options. Deal with an angry Shelby now or later. He decides to go with the former. He turns his back on the young woman before turning back to face her with the bottle in his hand.

Y/n smiles sweetly but the man easily sees the sadistic nature in her eyes. Just like her brothers.

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry waits about ten minutes after Y/n left before picking up the phone. When he receives no answer, he tries the next best.

“Hello.”

“Hey Arthur, I need you to give Tommy a message.”

***

“You’re fucking crazy, Y/n Shelby.”

Johnny Dogs’ words has the youngest Shelby giggling loudly, almost falling off the black stallion Tommy gave Johnny years ago.

“I rather be crazy than fucking normal.” She tips the bottle back, frowning when she barely gets a drop. She slides down off the stallion. “We need more rum.” She announces as she throws the bottle in the air, smiling when it crashes to the ground, shattering into pieces.

“Y/n Shelby!”

“Fuck.” Y/n whispers. She searches around the wooded area with her eyes to try and find the best place to hide. Her gaze lands on an amused Johnny and her eyes instantly narrow. “Did you fucking snitch?”

Johnny’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “I-I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Huh, that’s true.” Hearing footsteps getting closer, Y/n remembers she was trying to escape.

She takes about two steps before a strong hand grips around her forearm. “Just remember I’m drunk, you can’t yell at me.” She giggles but immediately stops when her eyes finally meet her brother’s.

Tommy grins at his little sister, the same sadistic nature clouding his own eyes. “You want me to wait until you’re fucking sober, eh?”

Y/n is regretting her words. “No, Tommy, wait!” She tries to pull out of her brother’s grasp as he pulls her towards the pond. “Don’t you fucking dare!” She shouts when Tommy pulls her up into his arms. She tries to grip his coat, but being in the drunken state that she is, she’s not able to grip the material tight enough.

The sadistic grin stays until Y/n stops cursing and calms down. Once he has her attention, he drops any sign of amusement and his eyes narrow. “Feel better?”

“No.” Y/n sasses before pulling herself out of the water.

Tommy points in the general direction he came from. “Go to the fucking car.”

“Which one?” She taunts.

“Mine. The one you stole.”

“Borrowed.” She mumbles, but scurries away when Tommy takes two threatening steps towards her. She gets lost twice; the alcohol still running through her veins is making her brain fuzzy.

She screams when someone taps her shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Y/n.” Tommy snaps as he motions for her to follow him.

***

The ride to her brother’s house is dead silent.

Y/n tries to flee up the stairs, but Tommy quickly snatches her arm in a firm grip.

"Not so fucking fast, young lady." He growls in her ear as he pulls her into his office, pushing her just enough to force her to sit on the couch.

"Stop fucking pushing me around!" She snaps.

Tommy points a warning finger mere inches from her face. "Watch the tone."

Y/n bites her lip to keep herself from pissing her brother off even more.

Slightly mollified with her silence, Tommy drops the pointed finger. "If you keep on like this, Y/n, I'm locking you in your fucking room until I find a man to marry you off to."

Y/n's jaw slacks open, hoping she heard her brother wrong. "You're not picking who I marry, asshole. Yes, I would love your blessing when I want to get married; but, as of now, I'm happy being alone. I'm barely of age, still have a few years before I even think about crossing that bridge."

Tommy had instantly regretted his words. He didn't really mean them... well, he didn't mean the part of marrying his baby sister off. Locking her in her room seems to be his only option right now.

"I'm not a child, Tom."

"Then stop fucking acting like one!" He roars, the last string holding his temper snaps. "Fuck, Y/n, every time I see you now, you're in some kind of trouble. You and Finn aren't kids anymore."

"It's not my fault that the only time you want to see your kid siblings is when they're making you look bad!" Y/n snaps back; her hurt and anger from being ignore for so long spilling from her mouth. "You used to want to be around Finn and I. Now you only see us when Arthur calls about our behavior; or Aunt Polly threatens to send us to live with you." She huffs out a humorless laugh. "I thought the older I would get, the more I could be with you, helping you with the business. But I guess I was fucking wrong. I guess there's not much Finn and I can do for you except run errands and be your little messengers."

“So are you done with the childish acts?”

Y/n swallows the sob threaten to escape. She finally sees Tommy; the new Tommy. The one who only cares about getting to the top and proving he’s worthy to sit at the adult table.

He wants her to pretend they solved the issue so he can focus on something more important than her. “Yeah, I’ll behave.” She stands to her feet. “I’m guessing you don’t want me leaving the house anytime soon?”

Tommy nods his head, glad his sister isn’t arguing with him anymore. “You can leave when Pol says you can come back to her place.”

Y/n nods, quickly making her exit from his office so he won’t see the tears freely flowing down her face.

Tommy drops his head, fighting with himself on whether he should stop her. He knows they didn’t make amends, but he has other business in London to tend to.

And if she keeps her word and behaves; he won’t have to worry about her, or Finn for that matter, every second of the day. He needs to stay sharp; his mind can’t be wandering back to his siblings’ whereabouts.

Y/n wipes away the tears as she hears children laughing. She smiles when two kids run to greet her.

“Aunt Y/n, we missed you!”

She hugs them both. “Oh, I missed you too.”

She silently promises to her niece and nephew that she will do what her brother wishes as long as she can; just so she can be near them. They need a father; but she’ll do her best to fill in his spot.

Forevers: @beautycinders @desiredposion

#tale teller's 2020 bingo challenge #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby!reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #me on the first post:#its not a liveblog!#me this time: it kinda is. but not in the same format as my tmm one #i like doing one post for a handful of eps bc it saves time #and crowds my blog less #and also i just like talking abt what im watching lol #dp thoughts

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

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Halftime

Originally written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt #10: "Smile, we're on Camera."

Read on AO3

Summary: With Ginny telling Harry that he needs to cut loose, Harry fulfills one of his childhood dreams, but gets far more than he bargained for.

*******

Dear Harry,

I take back any and all cheek that I might have given you while you were Captain, because you clearly had the patience of a saint to not be screaming at us the whole time. I swear, it’s like herding hippogriffs. Peakes messed up his bat hand by being careless in Potions, Dean and Demelza are more interested in flirting with each other all practice than running the bloody drills, and the less I say about our sorry excuse for a new Seeker, the better. When you joined the auror program to help the world and find purpose in life, did you not once consider how it would inconvenience ME? Honestly.

And I don’t know how you put up with sharing classes with Hermione for six years. I’ve lost count of the times she’s almost slapped me upside the head from being in such a hurry to raise her hand. It’s also very annoying that I can’t lie to her about not having any homework to get her to stop nagging me, since she now has the same schedule as me.

I miss you so much. Honestly, has the first Hogsmeade weekend ALWAYS taken this long to arrive? What the hell. I’m counting down the days until I can get you pissed in the Three Broomsticks and I can take advantage of you (insert evil laughter here).

Love,

Ginny

****

Dear Ginny,

I’m afraid I can’t join you in bad mouthing Dean for being distracted by a girl during practice, as that would make me a hypocrite. But it’s irrelevant, because you’ll score so many goals on your own that it won’t even matter who catches the Snitch. Let’s be honest, you’re a better Captain than I ever had a chance of being. At least you’ll probably play in more than one game. As much as I miss you, that makes me glad I didn’t go back to school, even if my hand is cramping from paperwork and Robards thinks I don’t deserve to be here.

I’m honestly surprised that homework lie worked on Hermione up until now. I would have guessed that she memorized every year’s schedule just so she could scold students of all years (don’t tell her I said that).

About Hogsmeade….I was actually thinking that maybe we should steer clear of the pubs and shops. Maybe we can have a picnic on the outskirts of the village. Or maybe I can instead meet you on the school grounds. I know non-students normally aren’t allowed that, but I’ve been told the school’s stern headmistress has a soft spot for me. I just think that if we’re in the Broomsticks or Honeydukes together we won’t even get through the day without cameras starting flashing. I just don’t want to add one more thing to stress you out.

Love,

Harry

****

Dear Harry,

Okay Love, this is getting ridiculous. We’ve been together for months but still haven’t gone on a single proper date. I’ve tried to be understanding, I didn’t even argue when you didn’t want to come to see me off on the platform and we had to get all our snogging in at the house, but surely you realize this can’t go on forever. I’m PROUD that I’m your girlfriend, you git. You keep saying that you don’t want to drag me into your public life, but I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t care about that. You really don’t think I can handle the occasional Witch Weekly columnist cornering me and asking me if you’re good in the sack? Don’t worry, I’ll give a glowing review.

We can’t keep hiding from the world forever, nor should we have to. So stop being such a noble prat or I absolutely WILL tell Hermione what you said about her scolding.

Love,

Ginny

****

Ginny,

I know that you could handle anything the world throws at you. I know you can handle anything, but you still shouldn’t have to. It’s more about what I can handle. I know we can’t keep this secret forever, but….I don’t know, our relationship is just OURS right now. Once we’re public, it’s like we’re going to be sharing it with a thousand strangers. Half of bloody Britain had an opinion about Hermione my fourth year, and I wasn’t even ACTUALLY dating her.

This is probably like ripping off a bandage and we should just get it over with, but as long as I still have that card to play and make plans on how I’d reveal it at some point in the future, I can fool myself into thinking I’m actually in control of this part of my life. Once the press gets word about us, it’ll be chaos.

Love,

Harry

P.S. - If you tell Hermione what I said, I’ll tell Ron that you said it’s only a matter of time before he gets too fat to be an auror.

****

I clearly have failed to teach you that control is grossly overrated. If you ask me, some chaos is exactly what you need. Sure, your life might have SEEMED crazy at first, but now you know you were just riding on rails the whole time. You’ve had Dumbledore, the school, the Ministry, the Order, all telling you what you can do and where you can go for your own protection, and of course the whole thing was because a bloody prophecy was running your life. Honestly, if I were you, I’d be going crazy.

And what do you take me for, a coward? I told Ron that to his face this summer, your threats mean nothing to me, peasant.

****

Are you calling me boring? I AM going crazy! I’m actually leaving the house and going to the shop when I want to. 10-year-old me would have his mind blown by having more than five square feet to move around, haha.

****

Nice try Harry, but we’ve both learned that using dark humor as a defense mechanism only goes so far. Your tragic backstory actually further proves my point, this truly is the first time your life has been open-ended and you don’t even know what to do with it.

You know what I think? I think you need to be impulsive. Maybe even a little spiteful. Every day, just do something you couldn’t do growing up or at school, either because it was too dangerous or illegal or because the monsters you lived with didn’t let you, or whatever (by the way, I’m totally going to kill them, it doesn’t matter what you say). Even if you don’t think you need or want to do them, do them just because you CAN now. Don’t wait to start until you can do them with me, in fact it may actually be better if you don’t. Even though we love each other, our relationship is still something you’re bound by and responsible for. You need to learn to live for no one but yourself.

Then maybe you’ll stop being such a chivalrous prat and hiding me away. Love you.

*******************

14 November, 1998

“I think you overdid it on the shrinking charm,” said Hermione, “I’m not that taller than you.”

Ginny adjusted the denim jacket that Hermione had lent her as they walked down from the castle in the crisp autumn air. The boys had written to them and asked them to wear muggle clothes when they went down to Hogsmeade, and Ginny needed to borrow something warm that wasn’t a cloak from Hermione, and had adjusted the size with magic.

“ Hmm, ” Ginny hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe, but I didn’t want it to be baggy. I need it riding high enough so my bum is uncovered, I didn’t squeeze myself into these tight jeans for nothing.”

Hermione grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Well you might have made it so small that it doesn’t even make you warm, defeating the purpose.”

Ginny scoffed. “Hermione, we’re girls, we don’t need to rely just on clothes to keep us warm, that’s what boyfriend arms are for, obviously. ”

They approached the gate of the school, and were surprised to find their boyfriends waiting for them right there instead of in the village. Ginny was about to tell off Harry if he was continuing with his nonsense of just spending the day at the school, but her voice died and her jaw dropped when she saw the state of him.

Harry was, somehow, looking even hotter than he did the last time she saw him. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a messed-up smiley face on it and the word “NIRVANA” splashed across his chest (which looked much more toned than the last time Ginny had seen it, but she would have to run her hands over it to be sure). She was able to see it because his hands were on his hips, pushing back the black leather jacket he was wearing. From now on, he would wear nothing but leather, if Ginny had any say, and it hung beautifully on his broad shoulders (which he had now, apparently, Ginny thanked the gods for the auror training regimen).

But the thing that drew Ginny’s eyes the most was his hair. It was even more wild than usual, messier than any bedhead she had seen him with, to the point that it seemed to defy gravity, and was practically begging for a girlfriend’s fingers to be running through it.

“Oh, brother,” she heard Ron grumble. She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t even attempting to hide how hard she was eye-shagging Harry.

Harry gulped and blushed at the look on his girlfriend’s face, and didn’t even manage to get out a polite greeting before she leapt into his arms and kissed him until he felt dizzy.

“...wow,” he gasped finally as he put her down, needing air.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in muggle clothes that fit you,” said Hermione, after kissing her own boyfriend.

“Yeah, he looks weird in jeans meant for a human instead of a hippopotamus,” laughed Ron.

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the attention. “Yeah, well...that’s sort of the point.”

He turned back to Ginny. “I took your advice. I’ve been doing lots of stuff that I’ve never been allowed to do before. I actually bought a Nintendo, since I was never allowed to touch Dudley’s, or even watch him play.”

“He’s coming to regret that, though,” said Ron smugly, “since I’ve been kicking his arse at it.”

“And I also realized that I can actually buy my own clothes now,” Harry continued. “I started out just wanting to buy some jeans and shirts that fit me, but well….your dad and I finished fixing Sirius’s motorcycle, and in all the photos I’ve found of Sirius with it, he’s wearing a jacket like this. I guess it’s just what you’re supposed to wear when you ride one.”

He looked down and pulled at his t-shirt. “This is a muggle band that I found a tape of once. I managed to play it for a bit on Dudley’s old stereo he kept in his second bedroom, but I got a bit too greedy with the volume and Petunia practically shrieked like a banshee to ‘turn off that noise!’ But now I have all their music and blast it as loud as possible, just because I can, like you said.”

“And in all of this splurging, you couldn’t afford a hair comb?” chuckled Hermione, pointing to Harry’s hair.

“Hey, you shut up!” Ginny told Hermione. “Don’t listen to her, Harry, if you comb this I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, apparently men do this on purpose now?” said Harry. “I went to get a haircut, and basically told the stylist to just do whatever she thought looked good, and she used this paste that made my hair stick out all over the place even more than it usually does, and stay there.”

He shrugged at Ginny. “You said to be spiteful, and it was fun imagining what Petunia would think if I had this growing up, so I kept it.”

“Well Harry, that is downright petty!” Ginny gasped. “I’m so proud of you!” At that, Harry’s face split into an adorably goofy grin.

“Well let’s get going,” said Hermione. “Why did you two ask us to dress muggle?”

Reluctantly, Harry pulled his eyes away from his girlfriend beaming at him. “Oh yeah, that. Well, I was actually hoping we could go to muggle London. There’s another thing I’ve been meaning to do, but I wanted all of us to go together.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and she looked at Harry with her hands on her hips. “Are you just trying to get me away from the magical world as part of your daft idea to protect me?”

“What? Nooooo,” said Harry guiltily, “It’s not about that!”

Ginny didn’t move a muscle except to raise one eyebrow.

“....okay it’s not only about that. Come on, muggle public is still public, it’s a step in the right direction, work with me here, Gin.”

“I for one don’t mind staying clear of Harry’s admirers, personally,” said Ron, offering his arm to Hermione to Apparate.

“Alright,” grumbled Ginny, “but you’re not off the hook about this!”

She looped her arm through Harry’s, he turned on the spot, and she winced as she felt the squeeze of Apparition.

When they landed, Ginny was immediately aware of all the sounds and smells that came with the truly absurd number of people that lived together in muggle society. That was the thing about muggles that always blew her mind, just how many there were. She heard the shuffling of thousands of footsteps and a cacophony of car horns, and smelled smog. The first thing she saw, however, was just a brick wall. They had Apparated in an alleyway.

“Come on,” said Harry, and took her by the hand. He led her out onto a bustling pavement, and across the street Ginny saw an enormous stadium. Everywhere, there were billboards and banners in red and white, adorned with the emblem of a red rose. Across the entrance to the stadium, where a huge crowd of people, mostly dressed in white, were passing through turnstiles, were giant letters spelling out “WELCOME TO TWICKENHAM.”

“Oh Harry, this is a great idea!” said Hermione cheerfully as they started crossing the street towards the entrance.

“Wait, what’s going on?” asked Ginny, “What made you want to come here?”

Harry sighed as they continued to walk. “Growing up, Dudley always loved a muggle sport called rugby. Actually...no, I don’t think he loved the actual sport, he just loved watching big ugly blokes hit each other really hard. His favorite part of the matches were the brawls that would occasionally break out. That might be why he eventually lost interest in the sport and took up boxing instead, cutting out the middleman, I guess.

They got in line at the entrance to the stadium and Harry handed out tickets that he had bought to the three of them.

“Anyway,” Harry continued, “Petunia and Vernon would take Dudley to all the England games. They really tried to foster his interest in it, I think maybe so that he might actually want to play.”

He paused for a moment and then chuckled. “But that was never going to happen. Dudley can’t run for eight seconds, much less eighty minutes. The sport also kind of has a stigma for being for stuffy upper-class people—”

“Yeah, that tracks,” grumbled Ron. “Your dad said he played this game, right Hermione?” She swatted his arm.

“So that was the other reason the Dursleys liked the game, it fit nicely into the image they obsessively crafted about themselves,” continued Harry, with an edge in his voice. “But of course, that image had no room for me in it. They couldn’t very well be seen with a boy who looked like a street urchin in raggy hand-me-downs, so every England game I got handed off to Mrs. Figg while little Dudders got to shout obscenities at the opposing players and referee to his heart’s content.”

Ginny gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and his furrowed brow relaxed again. He shook himself out of his mood and cleared his throat.

“Anyway, Ginny’s been telling me to indulge myself more, so I thought I’d finally see what all the fuss is about, just because I can now. I wanted it to be a surprise, but in hindsight I really should have asked you both first, I won’t get my feelings hurt if you want to go back to Hogsmeade.”

“Oh, don’t you start that again!” Ginny scolded him.

“This is an excellent idea, Harry,” said Hermione. “I’m always telling these two they should learn more about muggles.”

Once they were in the stadium, Harry started guiding them towards the section with their seats, but Ron made to go towards one of the many food kiosks.

“Ron, I know there’s no way you didn’t eat lunch before picking us up,” groaned Hermione. “Even you can’t possibly be hungry again already.”

“Hey, you just said I needed to learn more about muggles!” said Ron defensively. “I’m going to get right on that, starting with learning about their selections of beer.”

Hermione crossed her arms. “Oh, really, you got a muggle driver’s license while I’ve been away? How do you plan to prove that you’re over eighteen?”

Ron frowned in confusion. “Why the bloody hell would it matter if I’m over eighteen?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, Ginny, go find our seats. Ron, go buy the food, I’ll get us some drinks.”

Eventually, they were all seated, in a great spot that Harry knew with satisfaction even the Dursleys had never sprung for, with Harry sitting between Ginny and Hermione, with Ron on Hermione’s other side. Ron was balancing a sample of nearly every concession in the stadium, Ginny was bouncing excitedly on the edge of her seat, and Harry wore a contented smile as the England team marched out onto the field alongside the Netherlands, greeted by the roar of the crowd.

“Brr, it’s a little cold,” said Ginny, exaggerating her shiver a bit and looking sideways.

“Oh, come here,” said Harry, with genuine concern, and wrapped his arm around her.

She sighed as she melted into him. “Much better.”

“You cold too, love?” Ron asked Hermione. “These muggle clothes aren’t as warm as a cloak.”

“No, I cast a warming charm on myself before we left,” Hermione said casually.

“Oh…” said Ron, his face falling. Hermione rolled her eyes, took his hand, and wrapped her boyfriend’s arm around her.

As the anthems started playing, the four of them enthusiastically attempted to sing along, despite the fact that Hermione was the only one of them who knew the words to “God Save the Queen,” and blushed with embarrassment at the offended looks they earned from the fans around them.

Right from kickoff, Ginny was surprised by how much she enjoyed a game where all of the players were stuck on the ground. It was true that there was a great deal of ugly blokes hitting each other, but there was also a good bit of far prettier blokes pulling off long, elaborate passing plays that honestly made Ginny feel jealous and start taking mental notes, and whenever the players started launching kicks into the sky and leaping to catch them, she almost felt like she were at a Quidditch match. With each England score, she cheered as if she had been watching the team all her life.

And she had plenty of chances, because barely a few minutes would go by before England would score again. The roar of the crowd quickly became less and less intense, as many of the muggle fans started clapping politely or even looking outright bored, and looked sideways at Harry and Ginny continuing to leap to their feet every time England ran the ball into the end of the field, like they suspected the young couple were being sarcastic.

“Oh come on, that was thrown forward!” Ron cried out in frustration as England scored their fifth try. “And there’s no way that was a legal tackle!” he pointed to a Dutch player still on the ground, clutching his ribcage.

“How would you know?” Harry laughed. “And whose side are you on anyway, traitor?”

“He can’t help it, this is just like watching the Harpies play the Canons,” teased Ginny. “He has a soft spot for hopeless teams.”

“Oi, shut it!” snapped Ron, “Besides, it’s our year this year, our new Keeper is unbeatable, except from the left side.”

By the time halftime was called, England was up forty-seven to zero, Harry and Ginny were feeling exhausted from cheering, Hermione’s right ear was hurting from Ginny’s shouting, and Ron was about to burst from all the beer he had drunk, so he got up and made like a bat out of hell towards the toilets.

As the fans settled down, the stadium was trying to keep them entertained until the game resumed, playing music and showing shots of the crowd on the jumbotron, with the caption “Dance Cam!” in the corner. Harry and Ginny were having fun judging the performances.

“Hmmm, commendable effort, but lacking creative vision,” said Ginny in a snooty voice.

“You just can’t appreciate the artform,” said Harry. “If they pointed the camera at us, I would wipe the floor with you.”

“Ugh, no, I don’t need to see you attempt to dance,” said Ron, returning holding his stomach and looking green. “I already hurled in the loo, don’t make me do it again.”

“Well that tends to happen when you eat five hot dogs in forty minutes,” said Hermione primly.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been living off of Harry’s cooking for the past two months, I was desperate for something edible.”

“Only you could complain about free food, Ron,” said Harry.

“It’s not free! I’m paying for it more than you!” Ron shot back. “Don’t act like you’re cooking to be nice, you’re just using me as your Weasley guinea pig so you can get good at it to impress my sister!”

Harry blushed, and was about to retort, when Ginny pulled on Harry’s arm from his other side.

“Harry,” she said in a sultry voice that sent a shiver down his spine, “Smile, we’re on camera.”

Harry looked up to the jumbotron, and felt himself blush harder and gulped loudly. He saw Ginny and himself, up on the screen, magnified for thousands of people to see, but that wasn’t the most embarrassing part. While he had been arguing with Ron, the game had apparently changed. Instead of the Dance Cam, the screen was now captioned with “Kiss Cam!”

He turned towards his girlfriend, who had a dangerous glint in her eye, and cleared his throat. “Er...do you think we should—”

He was cut off by Ginny throwing her arms around his neck and sticking her tongue down his throat. She leaned back in her seat, pulling him with her until he was almost lying on top of her. Through the fog of blissful oblivion that turned his brain to mush, Harry was distantly aware of the roar of laughter and wolf whistles as a few thousand of his closest friends reacted to him snogging his girlfriend.

“...Welp. I’m gonna go puke again,” Ron said in a deadpan voice, and got up to leave.

“You know, when you told me to go crazy, I didn’t think you meant shameless, ” Harry told Ginny.

“Oh, ex- cuse me!” laughed Ginny. “Have you already forgotten how our first kiss went?”

“I think this is on a bit bigger scale!” said Harry, gesturing around them to the huge stadium, many hundreds of times larger than the Gryffindor common room.

“Yes, that means that I win,” said Ginny smugly.

Harry laughed and reached an arm around her, pulling her close.

“I didn’t know it was possible to feel this....”

“Happy?” Ginny finished for him hopefully.

“No,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Well, yes, I mean, I am happy, but you make me this happy all the time. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this normal. ”

Ginny smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “For the record, Harry, you’re not normal. You’re brilliant, and a hero, that’s never going to go away forever. But I’m glad you got to pretend otherwise today. Now, can we get the game started again? I’m on the edge of my seat to find out who wins.”

Despite being so cheesy, Harry couldn’t help himself. “Well, I’m feeling like I’m the real winner here.”

Ginny threw her head back and groaned.

******************

“I am starving! ” Ron announced as he and Harry stepped through the Burrow’s fireplace. They had just floo’ed over for Sunday dinner, which had quickly become a tradition after they had moved out. For both of them, the Burrow still felt like home.

When they entered the kitchen, they found most of the family already there, and Harry was surprised and confused by the range of reactions he received. Fleur’s face was flushed as if she had been laughing, and upon seeing Harry she collapsed into more giggles. Bill, however, narrowed his eyes at Harry and pressed his mouth into a thin line, which didn’t scare him nearly as much as George grinning at him and rubbing his hands together gleefully. Mrs. Weasley had her back turned to them at the kitchen sink, and Mr. Weasley was hidden behind a newspaper.

Harry and Ron paused for a moment and looked at each other.

“Er...what’s so funny?” asked Harry.

“It’s not funny,” said Bill curtly, looking between his wife and George.

“Did you two enjoy your outing with the girls yesterday?” Mrs. Weasley asked without turning around.

“It was brilliant,” said Ron. “Harry had a stupid grin on his face the whole time.”

“Well I should think so,” sighed Mrs. Weasley, with annoyance in her voice. She turned around and placed a magazine on the kitchen table, sliding it towards Ron and Harry. “You certainly seem to have enjoyed yourself.”

Harry looked at the cover of the magazine, and felt all of his insides turn to ice.

It was the latest issue of Witch Weekly, and on the cover was an identical image to the one that had appeared on the stadium’s screen the previous day, except this one was magically moving: Harry and Ginny in the stands, sharing a searing kiss in front of everyone. The headline read “ WHO IS GINNY WEASLEY? THE INSIDE SCOOP ABOUT THE CHOSEN ONE’S CHOSEN ONE! Read on page 23.”

“This issue actually went out late,” said George over his drink, “I guess that happens when the biggest story of the week happens last-minute.”

Harry couldn’t respond. He felt his throat closing up. The exact thing that he had been terrified would happen had happened.

“Okay, just for the record,” said Ron uneasily, “She was the one snogging him.”

“How dare you, Ronald!” said George dramatically. “What are you implying about our sweet, innocent baby sister? We all know she’s been badly influenced by Harry’s wanton ways. After all, he’s always been such a womanizer.”

“We can see that she instigated it in the picture, Ron,” said Bill shortly, “But one wouldn’t think that Harry would be powerless against being manhandled by a ninety pound girl with no wand if he didn’t concur with the idea. Where’s all those auror reflexes?”

Harry was barely listening to them. He opened the magazine so fast he ripped the cover and flipped to page 23:

Sorry to all of our younger readers, but Harry Potter appears to be off the market! While WITCH WEEKLY reporter Joan Bigby was watching a muggle game called “rug bee” (as research for our Top 10 Hottest Muggle Celebrities, pg 36), imagine her shock when she spotted the Chosen One himself in the crowd. After months of being elusive, with not a single public sighting outside of the Ministry of Magic since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry, with all eyes on him, shared an intense kiss with a red-headed girl that we have since discovered is Ginny Weasley, current seventh year Hogwarts student, in a public display of affection that very few would expect of the famously mysterious and dignified hero.

However, the muggle footage (that we’ve magically recreated here) clearly shows Ginny initiating the kiss. Did she do it to get some fame for herself? Many people are saying it’s possible.

“WHO is saying it’s possible!?” Harry growled as he white-knuckle gripped the glossy pages. “You just broke the story, who’s talking about it already!?”

“Oh, ‘many people are saying,’” Mrs. Weasley huffed. “That’s what they say when they want to disguise that they’re just making things up.”

Harry continued to read, even though every line horrified him more than the last.

Naturally, the magical community of Britain will be wondering if this girl is good enough for their savior. Well, we regret to inform everyone that Ginny Weasley appears to have a reputation of having many boyfriends and going through them rather quickly.

“But she doesn’t!” Harry cried. “She had just two previous boyfriends and dated them for a year, how is that quickly?”

“Well I mean,” mumbled Ron, “She does have more experience then either of us.”

“But that’s only because we’re both idiots,” said Harry.

“Fair point,” said Ron.

After leaving the muggle event, Miss Bigby Apparated to Hogsmeade, where the Hogswarts student population were spending the day. She had a very enlightening conversation with a Miss Romilda Vane, current sixth year.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry groaned.

“I strongly suspect she’s been slipping him love potions,” Miss Vane commented. “Everyone knew that she was fawning over him for years, then out of nowhere he’s snogging her in the Gryffindor Common Room after a Quidditch match. She’s been climbing the ranks by dating boys who will give her clout by association. First there was Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw with the highest marks in his year, then there was Dean Thomas, Harry’s dorm mate and one of Gryffindor’s Quidditch stars.”

WITCH WEEKLY also tried to reach out to Corner and Thomas, who were also present in Hogsmeade, but they both adamantly declined to comment. However, this may have been due to having no bad things to say, but rather a fear of reprisal from the fiery redhead. According to Miss Vane, Ginny Weasley also has a reputation for being violently unstable, with a penchant for the Bat Bogey Hex. As if we weren’t already worried that this girl would break Harry’s heart, she might also hurt him physically….

Harry let the magazine fall from his hands and he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs.

“It’s over,” he said in disbelief. It wasn’t emotional panicking, it was just a reasonable statement of fact. “There’s no way she doesn’t chuck me after this.”

Harry hopelessly collapsed forward until his forehead loudly made contact with the wooden table.

All the expressions from the Weasleys softened in sympathy, from Bill’s and Mrs. Weasley’s stern looks to Fleur’s and George’s teasing smiles.

“Oh Harry dear, I’m sure she’ll understand,” said Mrs. Weasley softly, coming around the table and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If I know my daughter at all,” said Mr. Weasley, finally emerging from behind his paper, “then she couldn’t care less what some strangers reading a magazine think of her. She understands that as long as the people who love you know the truth, that’s all that matters.

“Oh, I zink she cares,” chuckled Fleur, “She will love being known as ze diabolical villain zis rag is writing about. She will be proud, it will make ozzers zink twice before messing wiz ‘er. No one will try to steal ‘Arry from her if zey zink she will hex zem.”

“No, I know Ginny is strong,” said Harry despondently, “but everyone has a limit. She has to be wondering if being with me is worth—”

Tap tap tap

Harry’s sulking was interrupted by the noise at the window. He looked up and saw the screech owl that he had gotten Ginny for her birthday.

Harry’s heart sank even further. This was it. The break-up letter.

He mentally protested against his feet as they carried him to the window. All of his Gryffindor courage was failing him and he wanted to run in the opposite direction of that letter and never read it.

He numbly opened the window and took the letter from the owl. He opened it with shaking hands and began reading. As he read, he felt his tense stomach muscles finally relax, and eventually he started chuckling and a small smile appeared on his lips.

“Eh-hem.”

Harry looked up and saw all of the Weasleys looking at him very expectantly.

“Well?” said Ron.

Harry shrugged and began reading:

“Okay Harry,

I figure that this letter should reach you right as you’re starting to panic at Sunday dinner and starting to think a bunch of daft things like I’m going to ditch you.

Dean told me about being ambushed by some tart from WITCH WEEKLY in Hogsmeade. I got a copy this morning and it’s honestly the most brilliant thing I’ve ever read. I’ve framed it and put it up in my dorm, I’m going to re-read it whenever I need inspiration.”

“See? What did I tell you,” said Fleur proudly.

“I’m thinking about putting ‘Ginny Weasley, named Gold Digger of the Week by WITCH WEEKLY’ on business cards, but that might be overkill. So nip all of those noble, guilty thoughts I know you’re having in the bud, Potter. My only regret is that I don’t get to snog you like that every day. So you better be prepared to make up for lost time—”

“Feel free to skip this part,” said Bill flatly.

“We get the gist of it,” said Ron.

“The point is, Harry, that it will take a lot more than some tripe in a magazine for lonely witches with nothing better to do with their time for you to get rid of me. You better not try to hide me away again the next time we’re together. You’re going to snog me in public, whether it’s muggle or magical public is up to you.

Love (no matter what),

Ginny

P.S. - If you truly want to make it up to me, you can use your Ministry connections to get me out of Azkaban after what I do to Romilda Vane.

“Wow,” said Ron, “Don’t let her go, mate, that’s not the kind of letter you’d get from most girls right now.”

“I think I’ll have to lend our sister some Weasley Wizard Wheezes prototypes,” said George thoughtfully, “It seems she’s found the perfect test subject in Miss Vane.”

“Oh, don’t you encourage her!” scolded Mrs. Weasley, “I’ll write and tell her it’s best to just ignore this sort of thing and not retaliate. I told you she would be understanding, Harry dear.”

Harry’s head was swimming and his heart was pounding from his realization.

As happy as he had always been with Ginny, there had always been something holding him back from picturing a future with her. He now realized he had been assuming that she would get scared of everything that came with dating him and let him go. But she had taken the worst of it in stride, and that made it obvious: she was with him for keeps. She was the One. He could now see his whole life stretched out in front of him. A life shared with Ginny.

Harry made to leave the kitchen in the direction of the fireplace.

“Wait, Harry, where are you going?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

Harry didn’t see a reason to hide it. “I’m going back to my flat to write the cheesiest, most nauseating love letter in history.”

Ron shooed him away. “Don’t give us any more details, then, I don’t want to lose my appetite.”

#hinny ficfest #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry and ginny #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hinny #hinny fanfic #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #ron and hermione

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

EUPHORIA - Chapter 24

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, owner of a shady night club. She’s a journalist who has been asked to write an article to expose the indecency and debauchery that’s going on behind closed doors. But he’s also Dean Winchester, the boy who sat next to her in class. The boy who was too cocky for his own good.

Chapter Warning: NSFW, flangst

WC: 2824

A/N: This chapter fills my ‘voice kink’ square for @spnkinkbingo.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

This series is complete on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

He’s pissed and overly grumpy. It’s too fucking early to be dealing with bullshit. But he’s also grumpy because he had to see Y/N off.

Walking around the corner, Cas’ notices him and nods.

“Again?” Dean asks, sees them washing down the red paint. It looks bloody and it smells awful. It almost made him nauseous.

“Yeah,” Cas sighs, “It’s nothing I couldn’t deal with, so I didn’t feel the need to call you.”

“That’s okay,” Dean crosses his arms over his chest, watches the paint come off the walls before he turns to Cas, “Security footage?”

“We got it,” Cas says, but he doesn’t look happy about it so Dean already knows that it’s probably not even worth mentioning, “The guy wore a Vendetta mask and was dressed in black.”

“Great,” Dean breathes out, his hand goes up to rub at his forehead. There’s a puddle of paint running down the pavement towards him, and he takes a step to the side.

It’s moments like these that Dean wants to give up completely. That he wants to just sell the whole fucking thing and go do something else, being a fucking accountant for the firm Sam’s working in or just something that’s less stressful. Somewhere where he has to deal with less hate, maybe. Less jealousy.

He places a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “You go home and get some shut eye. I’ll see you for the briefing later,”

“‘K,” Cas answers and turns to walk away. Looking back, he calls out to Dean, “Balth is waiting in your office!”

Dean groans and rolls his eyes at that.

Apparently, he can’t catch a fucking break around here.

Dean walks into his office and sees Balthazar sitting on the couch. The man’s busy working on his laptop. A scent of coffee lingers in the air. He must have brought a cup with him because Dean doesn’t have a coffee machine in his office. What he has, though, is a fucking bar and he wonders if it would be too soon to pour himself a couple of fingers? It’s probably five o’clock somewhere , right?

Even though his mouth waters at the thought of the burning liquid filling his throat and clouding his head, Dean abandons the thought quite quickly. She doesn’t like him to drink. It has a lot to do with how she grew up and Dean respects that, has toned it down since Y/N came back into his life, and he wants to keep that up.

“Balth,” Dean greets the man and walks over to his desk, sits down with a loud grunt, “What can I do for you?”

“How’s your hand?”

“Good.” Dean nods and holds it up, takes a look at it himself.

It’s bandaged. Y/N was telling him that he should let her do it or she’ll get angry at him. He smirks at the memory. He would have loved to say that she could get mad all she wants, because he likes how cute she looks when she’s mad, but he thinks that would have been a bad move on his part, so he just held still while she sat on his lap and bandaged his hand. The lap sitting was a deal he negotiated because he said that he wouldn’t let her if she wouldn’t sit on his lap. She rolled her eyes but sat down and it’s crazy how his lap was made for her to sit on.

Balthazar clears his throat before he closes his laptop, and Dean is catapulted back to reality. Back to an annoying work day. He thinks maybe he should take a break, ask her if she’s game to go on a road trip. Just the two of them, driving where the road takes them with no clear destination. Dean doesn’t think he needs one with her.

“I’ve stayed with Cole after you left.” Balthazar says while he places his laptop back into its bag.

“And?” Dean frowns.

“He won’t press charges,”

Dean snorts, “Yeah, because we have the upper hand.”

It’s no surprise. Dean knew that he wouldn’t. If he would, he’d see his ass in jail and Dean doubts that Cole would survive a day in there. All Dean wanted was to make a statement and he thinks that he was pretty clear about what the statement entailed.

“Still, you should be more careful with breaking bones.” Balthazar gets up from the couch and walks over to the chair across from Dean. He doesn’t sit down, though, only braces his hands on it, leaning in a little.

“He was touching what’s fucking mine, Balth. What do you want me to do?” Dean shouts out and immediately regrets his outburst because it hurt his own ears. He pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s too fucking early.

When Dean calms down a little, he asks, “So, you had your eyes on him? He wasn’t anywhere near the club?”

“Nope, I drove him to the ER and he underwent surgery to correct his fucking jaw that you broke. He’ll stay there for the next two days, at least.”

“Good,” Dean nods. It’s not exactly good when it comes to the club, though, because Cole’s out of the picture, “Can you get more people on board? I want someone watching the club after closing. It’s a tiny window of time, three, maybe four hours.”

Balthazar nods, “I can do that.”

After Balthazar left, Dean decided to start up his computer since he hasn’t checked his emails for a couple of days now. He deliberately doesn’t have his work emails on his phone. It’s his private property and he made it clear from the beginning that he’s separating work and private life.

Dean clicks through the emails. There are some new member sign ups that he needs to go through. Some harmless threats which he usually bins right away. But then there are some mails that are more worrying as well.

He clicks on the first one with the title I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST NIGHT . The email opens up to pictures of the altercation in front of Y/N’s office building. Dean can see that it was shot from across the street. Maybe from a parked car. He immediately forwards the pictures to Balthazar.

There are more emails. Without pictures though, just words. Hurtful ones.

I WILL TAKE YOU AND YOUR CLUB DOWN

YOU ARE A FUCKING DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING

SHAME ON YOU

YOUR CLUB WILL BE CLOSED. MARK MY WORDS

It’s really nothing new. He gets those threats quite a lot and he always makes sure to block the sender but they keep making new email accounts and so he’ll keep deleting and blocking them. Dean can’t win in this, but neither can they, so at least there’s that.

Later in the day, while Dean’s briefing his employees, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out, thinks it’s Balthazar calling him about new developments. The man had called earlier already, only to suggest for Dean to get a fucking bodyguard but Dean really doesn’t know about that. He just thinks it’s a waste of money. Only when Balth mentioned that Y/N’s safety might be in danger too, does Dean at least agree to consider it.

Dean stops his speech to look at the caller ID, has to suppress his smirk while he holds up his index finger, “I gotta take this one, Cas?”

“Yeah,” The other man jumps in, grins himself because he knows, and Dean actually wants to wipe that smile from Cas’ face but he gotta hurry if he wants to take it before she hangs up on him.

Dean turns around, picks it up, smiles like an idiot because apparently, he lost the ability to control his fucking face, “Hey,” Dean walks up the stairs and disappears into the VIP room for some privacy.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting? You must be busy.”

It sounds like she’s pouting, Dean bites back a chuckle, “No, it’s okay, you never interrupt. How’s the workshop going?”

He tries to sound cheerful, doesn’t want to tell her about the things that happened yet. There’s no need for her to worry, really.

“Ugh, boring,” Y/N sighs, and adds, “I have a short break before I have to go for the mandatory dinner.”

Dean flips his wrist, sees that it’s past 5pm. He grins, “You wanna spice things up at the dinner?”

“Dean,”

“What?” He chuckles.

“Well,” Her voice is almost whiny as she considers his words, “Yeah?”

“That’s my girl,” Dean smiles, “Jesus, I’m getting all excited myself.”

Cas appears in the room and Dean nods at him, “Baby, I gotta go, I need to finish something here,”

“Okay,” It sounds like she’s pouting and god, Dean feels bad for making her feel like he doesn’t have time for her or that he doesn’t care when all he’s doing is to make fucking time. But he guesses she’ll understand once they see each other.

“Wear it and let me know when you’re going to dinner, alright?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “Miss you.”

Dean sighs, closes his eyes briefly, his heart flutters at those words. He smiles at the feeling, “I miss you, too.”

Y/N runs up to her room right after dinner, keys in her hand and leans back against the closed door as soon as she’s inside. She’s dripping wet from that vibe but she didn’t come yet. She doesn’t know how Dean does it but he always managed to stop when she’s about to come, making her whine out audibly once, and when Charlie, her friend from college who sat next to her asked what was wrong, she just said that she liked the food very much.��

God, it was so embarrassing!

She thinks about calling him but he’s probably busy working as it’s already past 10pm and the club is at its peak right about now.

Taking off her shoes, she walks to the bathroom to clean her face and she brushes her teeth, walking out into the bedroom shortly after. She quickly gets out of her dress and slips out of her panties that are completely soaked.

The device is still inside of her and clear enough, it starts to buzz again, making her shriek out. She swears if he won’t let her come again—

—her phone rings.

Letting herself fall onto the bed, still in only her bra and nothing else — except for the vibrator in her pussy — she grabs at her clutch that she left there before she walked to the bathroom.

Dean.

The vibrator still buzzes lightly inside of her and she picks up, has to gnaw on her bottom lip to suppress the moan.

“You are the worst!” It blurts out of her as soon as she swipes her thumb across the screen.

“Wait, what?” He’s laughing loudly.

“Yeah,” She pouts and moves up the bed, rests her back against the headboard while she spreads her legs and enjoys the buzzing between her thighs, “You turn me on and then you stop, and I was so close to coming.”

“Awe, poor baby,” Dean says in his mumbling voice and it sounds so fucking sexy, “Are you still turned on?”

“Yeah,” She mutters under her breath, “Please, you have to let me come.”

“I don’t know,” He chuckles, “Have you been good, Y/N?”

Oh my god , he’s pulling that card, isn’t he?

“I have. Please?” She nods and whines, teeth sinking into her bottom lip when she feels the buzzing getting stronger, moaning out shamelessly.

“Christ, you sound so fucking sexy,”

She can hear him growl on the other end.

“No, you do,” There’s another increase of vibration and god, it makes her arch her back, as a shrieking sound rolls off her tongue.

“I do? I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m getting hard just hearing you moan.”

“It— ah— it’s your v—voice, Dean.”

“My voice? What’s with my voice, baby?”

And it’s like he’s taunting her because it rolls deep, smooth like fucking honey and it feels like he’s wrapping her up in the warm sound. He increases the vibrations, and she didn’t know it could go further up but it does. One of her hands goes to her tit, kneads at it while she has a tight grip around her phone with the other.

“Ah— it’s.. Fuck— it’s so deep and gravelly and oh god— it’s sexy,”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, “Bet you’re so wet, ain’tcha, baby? You always are so wet for me. It’s the fucking best thing. Especially when you gush and come around my cock, Jesus—”

His breathing is ragged, he’s turned on too.

Good , she thinks. At least she’s not the only one.

“My panties were soaked. I took them off and now I’m on my bed in only my bra,” She manages to say, tongue darts out to wet her lips, “Wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there too. Wish I could kiss you. I’d be right between your thighs right now, eating you out like you’re the sweetest thing, because you fucking are,” It comes out a little strained, “Does me telling you these thing turn you on, huh?”

“Yeah,” She chokes out a moan, “You could read me the goddamn phone book and it would turn me on, Dean.”

“Christ, I’m just imagining you right now, all spread out and wet,” There’s a low growl before he speaks again, “Can you do me a favor, huh?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Use your words, sweetheart,” His voice is more stern. Doesn’t make it less sexy, though.

“Yes,”

“Good girl,”

God the praise . Y/N has to press her thighs together, already so fucking close.

Dean goes on, “Take off your bra for me, baby. Take your thumb and forefinger, give them a firm tug for me, bet your nipples are sensitive, huh? I wanna hear you.”

She sits up to unclasp her bra before she throws it carelessly into the room. Leaning back again, her right hand goes to her left nipple, tugs hard and moans out in pained pleasure.

“Good girl,” He coos, “Such a fucking good girl,”

The vibration increases again and she thinks that’s the maximum it can go. Hopes it is, because she’s right there, dancing dangerously on the edge.

“Dean, please, I’m—”

“—I got you, baby,” He breathes out a soft chuckle, “Come, you can come, now. Come for me, okay? I wanna hear you come for me.” His whispering low, and the words paired with his voice, plus the added buzzing in her cunt was enough to tip her over.

Oh god. His voice is really out of his world. She comes with a squeal. His name rolls off her tongue as she squeezes her eyes shut and her legs start to tremble. Her hips buck up and she doubles over and has to roll herself into a fetal position on the bed.

There’s a ringing in her ear from the orgasm and she feels the vibration getting softer until it’s completely gone. Dean’s voice is faint in her ear through the phone.

Good girl. My fucking good girl.

She swallows hard, her eyes are still closed. When Y/N comes back to her senses, she starts to giggle and then she hears it. The knock at her door.

“What’s so funny?” Dean asks as she sits up straight, startled from the knocking.

“Oh my god, someone just knocked at my door.” She says, her heart’s still pounding fast.

“Go on, open it.”

“No, who would knock at this time of night? I’m sure they just have the wrong room.” She doesn’t know if she’s trying to talk to him or talk herself out of her anxiety of the realization that someone came knocking at her door late at night.

“Maybe it’s room service?”

“Dean, I just came from dinner, I didn’t order anything!”

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t think it would be this hard!” Dean growls and she might be hearing things because she hears the deep growl outside of her door? He sighs then, “Baby, I really think you should open up.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t... Dean, no.” She scrambles off the bed, and somehow she doesn’t even care if she’s fucking naked.

“Dean, yes!” He chuckles lightly, “Come on, I’m standing in the hallway with a visible boner and I think if someone sees it, they’ll call the cops.”

She hangs up and drops the phone onto the bed as she makes her way to the door, opens it up wide to see Dean smiling at her.

Chapter 25

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#euphoria #spnkinkbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that.

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek.

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things?

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response.

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion:

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home.

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who?

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door...

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home.

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.”

What’s more Star Trek than that?

#star trek #ST #mymetas #Anonymous

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

Love Hurts - pt. 4

A/N: I don’t even know where I’m taking this... but kinda do.

It was the last preparation for the ball. Today was the day that all of the students went through the dances all in one class.

The first was Quadrille and you weren’t really excited about it, however, you did want it to be over as soon as possible.

Since that night- that walk you thought you could never look Fred in the eyes ever again. He didn’t know how much he truly influenced on you. He didn’t know, not even a tiny bit that all his words hurt. He wasn’t apologising to you, he was trying to excuse himself for his words.

You glared at him, he glared back at you.

He was furious with you as well. The whole walk, the whole talk, it was useless when you refused to understand and listen to what he truly had to say. Why couldn’t you just forgive him for this? The moment the two you stepped outside, the air, the energy, it was more than nice- it was comfortable and safe, homey even...

‘ -- The two of you walked through the portrait hole and started walking around the castle in your own, comfortable clothes. He apparently had a style of beige, light coloured clothes and you wore a bit dark coloured clothes today, navy blue sweatpants and black hoodie.

It was the kind of slow walk. He swung his legs in large steps and you hugged yourself because there was a slight breeze in the air.

He observed you at first. Your hair were in two dutch braids and they shone nicely on the moonlight. You were looking down on the ground, not really knowing how to start anything, so you waited for him to start.

“Are you cold?” he asked as he saw you tugging on the hoodie.

“A little.” you shrugged, looking up at him.

“I would give you a jacket... if I had one.” he smiled, opening his arms and showing you he only had a long sleeved shirt on.

“I’d take the shirt if offered.” you grinned coyly at him.

“Well I don’t have anything underneath so-” he stopped as he started to realise your unpure intentions. He let out a laugh. “Smooth.” he lowered his head and shook it, then let the silence take over as he continued to look at you. Your nose, your chin, your baby hair on the side of your head poking out. “You calmed down since the whole steps turning into a slide thing.”

You looked at him and smiled, just enough to light that one sparkle in your eyes. “Well, it’s a lovely night... and you’re more quiet that usual.”

He let out another laugh. “Is that good?”

“That’s fantastic.”

“So you’d walk with me but not listen to me?”

“You seem to say all the wrong things but you did want to talk so here I am, listening.”

He opened his mouth to say something but closed them just as soon. “Oh.” he managed to let out. “Well... don’t hate me- again but I meant what I said back then. You are barmy in the head”

“Wow thanks a lot, Fredrick.” your tone got a bit colder and your brows furrowed, sparkle disappearing and causing him speak bluntly on.

“Fredrick? - No no no no wait. That’s good. I like you when you're a bit crazy.” he smiled. “The way you laugh and smile and be all quirky. I like you like that. You’re adorable when you start jumping when you’re excited and giggle when you see something pretty- even if it’s an autumn leaf-”

“But thats not how you meant it back then did you?” you stopped and turned around sharply. You stared at him, not angrily but sadly. “Nobody likes to be called barmy in the head behind their back. You make me sound like I belong into a looney house, you asshat.”

“You’re not listening to me!”

“I am, Fred!” you shouted back, eyes only becoming more hollow and dropping their shape along with your lips. “I fancied you. You knew that because I flirted with you constantly and with you I sort hoped that being my quirky-self; funny and smiling all the time and- and laughing, flirting and doing all the shit you like that maybe, just maybe you would like me back but instead of linking me back for being a bit of crackhead, you call me barmy to the head and not in a good way- not how you said it back then. You said it as if me and you were like the grossest pair to be-”

“But that’s not what I meant at all!” he shouted over you. “You’re adorable and smart and funny and any guy would be lucky to have you but-”

“- not you, right?” you finished before he could.

“Not me.” he repeated after you.

“I would have got that if you had just told me.” you said, looking him in the eyes that looked away from you. “If you told me that directly back then, we would still be friends right now, nothing would have changed but that day- that day I couldn’t look myself in the mirror. I was so pissed at you and I was ranting to my friends for 2 freaking hours about how I did not deserve you and then I collapsed and cried another two hours about how could you have think that I am that awful and crazy and just say that no guy would ever want me and you said all because you George teased you with me.” you seemed to pour it all out and he only stared. “I get it. You have a reputation-”

“No. Don’t say that!” He pointed his finger at you angrily, raising his tone.

“It’s all of what this is about Fred! You don’t want your popular reputation to be ruined!”

“You don’t even know me! My reputation would be the last thing I cared about!”

“I do know you, you arse! Because I listen to you when you talk to me, what you say, what you joke about but not really- the little things matter!”

“That’s not my fault if you were interested in me and I wasn’t interested in you!”

“Do you even hear yourself!”

“Yes and I also hear you and you’re being a dramatic, whiny, sensitive little girl who can’t take rejection!” he seemed to speak from his temper, not even processing the words he is spilling out.

You stormed to him and pressed your finger at his chest, fire burning in your eyes as you looked up at him from bellow. You glared, he glared. “You, Fredrick-” you said slowly and he grabbed your finger and pulled you so close your noses were almost touching. The tension grew, the space between the two of you heated up and you felt yourself glaring into his soul, not his eyes. Your heart was pounding in your chest but so was his and both of you knew that was frustration to each other.

“Me, Fred.” he corrected you “Don’t call me-”

“Fredrick.” you repeated yourself with a smirk and he grit his teeth, forcing a smile as he looked up at the ceiling then throwing his head back down and gently bumping his nose onto yours. He felt his body freeze and melt but you kept yourself pressed on him and glaring at him angrily?

He couldn’t believe where his thoughts went after he found himself so close to you, holding you with such frustration and that frustration changed from an anger to lust.

“When you decide what you wanna be with me, Fredrick-” you spit the name out with extreme force in your tone “- if you want friends or enemies. Let me know because right now I feel like you’re trying to be one but becoming the other.” you pulled yourself away forcefully and it was as if the cold air washed both of you like a freezing cold shower. Both of your cheeks were red, whether from blushing or from pure fury, nobody will ever know but he was glaring and so were you.

“You really think that I will fall on my knees and crawl after you just so we can be friends. You’re the one who can’t move on, princess.” he didn’t budge, not a muscle. “You’re the one in love with me.”

You let out an unbelievable scoff. “First of all you one were one pathetic, stupid mistake of a crush that if I ever would fall in love with you, I’d go live with the Trolls. You’re poor and egoistic, don’t let me start on your poor ambitions.” you started to goad, clearly not seeing your own limits with words.

“Stop-”

“What Fredrick? Hurt you the way you hurt me? With words.”

“You’re not like that. You’re not mean, you’re just saying it but don’t really mean it.”

“No!” you became more angry than intending to. “What I didn’t realise before was that your personality was just as shitty as your looks! Now, here I thought there was this tall, handsome Gryffindor who loves to laugh and help people but in reality you pull pranks on people like a child because mommie and daddie never paid much attention to you and your brother-”

“Don’t bring my family into this!” he started to get furious. “You Mudblood-” he slapped his mouth and widened his eyes as you widened yours.

The two of you stood there in pure silence, watching each other with shock and the two of you didn’t know which one was worse than the other.

Soulmates weren’t supposed to make each other hurt like this... feel like this...

You looked away at your own realisation, than back up to glare at him. You started moving towards him but just before you passed him, you stopped and turned your head just a bit to the side. “You chose us to be enemies.” you said before a tear fell down your cheek but before he could see it, you were already storming back up. ---’

“What are you doing?” Anis asked with a worried expression.

You looked up at him and realised where your thoughts had taken you. “Ugh.” you forced a smile. “Just- want to get this over with. Feeling a bit under the weather today.”

He walked with you to your Quadrille pair and put a smile on his face. “Well, it’s our last one and it’s a short practice before I can see you in a lovely dress.” he looked down at you and sent you a flirty wink.

You rolled your eyes but smiled at it just before you were faced with two brown eyes glaring, not at you but at him. He heard it, he saw the looks and the reaction and he glared not at you but at him.

You took your position, he took his. He forced a smile on his face, said: “Princess.”

“Fredrick.” you mirrored his expression before his forced smile turned into a full, offended frown.

“I see the two of you haven’t made amends.” Angelina said from the side and the two of you ignored her, glaring at each other.

“Jel je sve uredu?” Anis asked, looking at you with another worried expression.

“Nije.” you answered without taking a look at him.

Anis looked at Fred, then back at you, then at Angelina who stood in front of him. She shrugged and he did as well. They both gave each other comforting looks as you and Fred only mirrored each other.

The dance started and you all moved together, you and Fred never much in sync as the two of you were before any of this happened. When he had to take a hold of you to take you in a round, you started to get uncomfortable and unsteady.

“Stop it.” he mumbled and you shot him a glare.

He was already tired from glaring back at you, so he softened his expression and sighed. “Just, (y/n), please just forgive me for today and when the dance comes.” he stopped but kept his hands on you. “I don’t want to ruin this for Angie or Anis or you. Let’s just both forget about our problems with each other for this stupid dance and after you can hate me just as much as you want to.” he looked down than back at you, his eyes pleading. “Please.”

You softened your expression, relaxed the tensed muscles in your body. Your hands fell down onto his and you took a bit more time to contemplate his words. You looked at Anis and Angie twirling around and finding both of them smiling at each other. You looked at Fred again and took a sigh. “Fine- yes. You’re right.”

“Yeah?” Fred looked at you, this time with more sad expression than a happy or relieved one.

“We shouldn’t ruin this for them because we’re both bitter towards each other.”

He let out a laugh and twirled you around as he continued the dance everybody else was at. He swung you on your feet and just before he let you go back to your dance partner. “One more than the other and the other more sorry than the one.”

You were back in Anis’ arms and he was swinging you, looking deeply into your eyes. “Čao, lepotica.” he spoke low as your eyes were still on the brown ones across the room. He sent you a loving, comforting simper from the other room, the one that made you wonder a bit, think a bit.

You looked up at those blue ones of your partner and felt all your emotions suddenly disappear. No more tension, no more chemistry, no more love? - No, that’s impossible.

“Hey, handsome.”

Fred saw you look away first, to those blue eyes and the way you smiled at your partner made his heart sink a bit. It was a constant battle with you. Both of you seem to be more forgiving and conflict resolving in those two seconds of dancing together than taking a long walk with the the intention of resolving and clearing out all the misunderstandings.

He leaned his head into Angelina’s shoulder and thought; her hands doesn’t feel as right in his than yours do. There is so much more missing with Angelina than with you and all you do when the two of you are together is hurt each other.

What even are the two of you anymore? If not classmates or housemates, not friends, maybe dance partners- what?

He closed his eyes shut just for a moment before opening them and finding you in his sight, laughing and joking around with your partner. Anis twirled you around, not following the dance steps at all, just dancing with you freely and you let your feet take you as well; back and forth, him spinning you away, then back to his arms and swinging you along with his feet. The dynamic was perfect. He made you smile and laugh, he made that sparkle in your eyes appear so easily that it seemed as if the two of you are perfect for each other. Now he may not be this with Angelina, nor with you but you and Anis might as well be soulmates.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader

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